


i wish that the good outweighed the bad

by collegefangirl3791, skywalking-across-the-galaxy (BadWolfGirl01)



Series: these battle scars [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: (aka the clones and krell), (sort of), ALL THE ANGST, Ahsoka Tano Needs a Hug, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, BAMF Ahsoka Tano, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Clone Wars, Clones, Everyone Has Issues, F/M, Feelings, Fluff, Guilt, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Krell is an asshole who deserves to die just saying, Lightsaber Battles, Loneliness, Major Character Injury, Manipulation, Mutual Pining, Pain, Post-Episode: s04e07 Darkness on Umbara, Post-Episode: s04e10 Carnage of Krell, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-Relationship, Sad Ending, Slow Burn, The Force, Umbara is a Spooky Place, Unresolved Emotional Tension, and sadness, episode rewrite, everybody blames themselves, general misery, rexsoka, umbara rewrite
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-02
Updated: 2018-06-18
Packaged: 2019-04-17 09:27:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 27,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14185932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/collegefangirl3791/pseuds/collegefangirl3791, https://archiveofourown.org/users/BadWolfGirl01/pseuds/skywalking-across-the-galaxy
Summary: If it were any other Jedi, General Skywalker or Kenobi or even Commander Tano, it wouldn't be like this. But like Krell had said, General Kenobi has his hands full with his own battle, and General Skywalker is serving the Chancellor. There’s no one here to be the voice of reason but Rex, and Krell won’t listen to him.But… But he remembers Commander Tano might have time to listen. She's attacking the blockade, but she's with Commander Offee, so surely Rex can at least talk to her, try to sort this mess.If communications weren't down, which they are. Still, it might be worth a try. His brothers can't keep dying for nothing. He's overseen everything that needs done, so he's free to go off a little by himself and try to contact her. Her comm frequency just crackles with static at first, and he's disappointed, if not surprised. “Kriffing Umbarans,” he growls.When he tries again though, there's a break in the static and then he hears the muffled sounds of a battle. “Commander Tano?” he says quickly. He hopes she's listening. “It's Captain Rex. Can you hear me?”[or: Umbara, if Rex had contacted Ahsoka for help with Krell.]





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hey there, badwolfgirl01 here! this is the first installment in a new series by collegefangirl3791 (the author of the lovely reylo fic "Balance") and i! it's a new style of cowriting for both of us, so we'd love feedback on it. she's written the Rex POV sections, and i did the Ahsoka POV (and the couple Anakin POV pieces).
> 
> please let us know what you think!
> 
> [EDIT, 06/18/2018: turned into 2 chapters, no new content added]

They take the base with too many casualties. It's a victory, but one of the hollow ones, made worse by the way Krell smiles like they've done something incredible and says the victory is “priceless.” It's not. Rex clenches his fist as he watches Krell walk away, wishing he could be as vocal as Fives is about how much he hates this. He isn't sure what Krell expects to accomplish. One suicide mission is bad enough, but two? His men (his brothers) are getting killed, and they're barely any closer to taking the city. They should have stuck with General Skywalker’s plan.

At least they have a base now, somewhere secure where they can rest without Krell reprimanding them for being short-sighted. Rex wishes he didn't feel so _bitter_ about that but he can't stand that he's expected to be quiet and do exactly as he's told - what kind of general doesn't listen to his officers? It's foolish and narrow-minded and dangerous and- and he sighs and tamps down those feelings. For now he has to get his men settled into the base, has to catalogue weapons and losses and whatever intel (or in this case, weird ships) they may have acquired.

Partway through his tasks, he’s called to the command center with Krell - General Kenobi has sent a transmission. The results of the conversation make Rex feel more frustrated than before: they lose the transmission just as General Kenobi tells them he’s taking heavy fire, and Krell decides they will march on the capital again in twelve hours. Down a path that’s now being regularly bombarded with missiles.

If their previous attacks were crazy, this plan is worse than ludicrous. It’s a death sentence. Rex goes back to work with a heavy heart.

The familiar tasks help him focus enough to put his worries on hold, even though Fives is still muttering scathingly about Krell whenever Rex gives him half an ear. His men are as angry about this attack as he is, Fives probably more so.

“It isn't _right_ , Captain,” he says vehemently, once, and Rex scowls.

“I know it's not,” he snaps. “But what am I supposed to do?” Krell is a Jedi Master and their general right now. This mission is important and Rex can't jeopardize it further by destabilizing the chain of command.

If it were any other Jedi, General Skywalker or Kenobi or even Commander Tano, it wouldn't be like this. But like Krell had said, General Kenobi has his hands full with his own battle, and General Skywalker is serving the Chancellor. There’s no one here to be the voice of reason but Rex, and Krell won’t listen to him.

But… But he remembers Commander Tano might have time to listen. She's attacking the blockade, but she's with Commander Offee, so surely Rex can at least _talk_ to her, try to sort this mess.

If communications weren't down, which they are. Still, it might be worth a try. His brothers can't keep dying for nothing. He's overseen everything that needs done, so he's free to go off a little by himself and try to contact her. Her comm frequency just crackles with static at first, and he's disappointed, if not surprised. “Kriffing Umbarans,” he growls.

When he tries again though, there's a break in the static and then he hears the muffled sounds of a battle. “Commander Tano?” he says quickly. He hopes she's listening. “It's Captain Rex. Can you hear me?”

~~~

The Umbarans have tech that goes beyond anything Ahsoka has ever seen.

The ships themselves are _fascinating,_ shield-bubbles around a metal skeleton, and she has a feeling that if Anakin were commanding the space battle, he’d be _fangirling_ over the new technology.

(She can just hear him now: _Snips, we_ have _to capture one of those ships,_ he’d say, all pleading eyes and eager grin, _can you imagine flying one of those things?_ And then he’d come up with some frankly _ridiculous_ plan that somehow works, blow up the Umbarans altogether, and come out of it with a ship.

She misses him.)

This space battle is one of the most intense dogfights she’s seen, and that’s more than a little worrying--they’re taking _heavy_ losses, and even though the enemy is taking losses too, she’s not sure it’s worth it. There’s so _much_ going on that it’s hard to keep track of, and the Umbarans’ unfamiliar weapons only serve to make the chaos that much harder to figure out.

Barriss is a good commander, and Ahsoka’s pretty sure that without the other Padawan’s insight the battle in space would’ve been lost already. Instead, they’re actually on the verge of _winning,_ as crazy as it seems--or they _were,_ at least.

“Commander, we’re picking up on multiple ships emerging from hyperspace,” one of the techs on the bridge--she doesn’t know their name, has been too busy coordinating her forces to take the time to learn names--says, and then swears. “Kriff! Looks like a full Separatist fleet. Commander, we’re outnumbered.”

A hologram of Barriss flickers into existence. “Ahsoka, I think there’s an Umbaran supply ship in the center of the fleet.”

“It must be bringing reinforcements to the surface,” Ahsoka says, frowning. She’s distracted by a muffled ping from  her wristcomm, followed by an all-too-familiar voice, even garbled by static as it is.

_“Commander Tano? It’s Captain Rex. Can you hear me?”_

“I read you--” and she pauses, flipping open the comms on the holotable, as something catches her attention. “All fighters, we have vulture droids incoming!” Just what they need. “There’s a Separatist fleet out there, so stay sharp.”

 _“Copy that, Commander,”_ comes a response, probably from one of the squadron leaders.

“Your signal’s getting through,” Ahsoka says, abruptly remembering the open signal on her wristcomm. “What’s _happening_ down there, Rex?”

~~~

Rex lets out a breath, relieved. “I don't even know,” he says wryly. “General Skywalker was called back to Coruscant, so we're taking orders from General Krell.” He's not sure how to explain the rest of it, how Krell doesn't seem to care about clone life as long as his strategies push through. How Krell calls them by their numbers. “It's not going well, Commander.”

He can _hear_ her worry when she answers. “How so, Rex? Do you need reinforcements?”

He thinks that would just make Krell give them crazier missions. “No. I, ah… I wanted to talk to you, Commander. About the general.” _About how I think he's going to get us all killed and I'm not sure what to do._ “His strategies are getting a lot of us clones killed. It's like he thinks we're a bunch of clankers, not people.”

~~~

Ahsoka remembers Master Pong Krell, a besalisk with four arms and a pair of lightstaffs. His casualty rates are always high, but he’s got quite the list of victories to his name, which… is rather like the Separatists and their droids, if she thinks about it. It’s not exactly a comforting thought, and it’s enough to take her mind almost entirely off the battle happening around her. “Have you--” but no, if Krell thinks of the clones as _subhuman,_ as expendables, it stands to reason he wouldn’t take kindly to the 501st questioning his strategies.

“He calls us by our numbers, Commander,” Rex adds, almost as though he’s afraid she won’t believe him, and she has to stifle a curse.

“Doesn’t sound like much of a Jedi,” she mutters under her breath. And she’s _supposed_ to stay here, overseeing _this_ segment of the battle, but… _her men_ are dying down there, needlessly, pointlessly. (What if _Rex_ gets killed? Any of them, really, but she’s the most worried about Rex.) “Barriss can probably handle the space battle, if you think you might need Jedi help.”

~~~

Rex rubs the back of his neck, thinking. He wants another voice here that Krell will actually _listen to_ , if he can't have someone replace Krell entirely. But Commander Tano is needed for the attack on the blockade and it would be selfish, and perhaps premature, to bring Ahsoka here, away from her assignment.

But he's beginning to realize that Krell will, at best, simply acknowledge his opinion and then continue with what he’d originally intended. Victory will continue to elude them under these strategies, whatever Krell says, and Rex has to admit he can't talk sense into Krell by himself. It's clear that the general thinks clones are barely a step above battle droids in usefulness _and_ worth.

“I would appreciate the assistance,” he admits, carefully. And the comfort of her presence too, if he's honest - nothing feels quite _right_ just now. “Maybe Krell will listen to you.” His wristcomm fuzzes a little, and he taps it a few times till the sound stabilizes again.

~~~

 _I hope so,_ Ahsoka thinks but doesn’t say. “I’m on my way,” she says instead, “just give me five minutes. Tano out.”

The comm signal tracks to an airbase; she memorizes the location, then comms Barriss. “Something’s come up and they need me planetside. Can you--”

“I’ve got this battle, don’t worry,” Barriss says. “You should hurry--I’ll have a few fighters clear you a path.”

“Thanks,” Ahsoka says, and then cuts the comm. There’s a few instructions to give to the other officers, which she handles as quickly as she can, and then she sprints to the Jedi cruiser’s hangar. (Every moment she spends here is another clone that might be dying for no reason on Umbara’s surface.)

She gets one of the A-wing’s engines running, closes the cockpit, and takes off; almost immediately, she picks up a starfighter escort. As promised, the clone pilots take out several pursuing Umbaran fighters, and she’s able to slip past the blockade into the planet’s atmosphere. The air base is--not _easy_ to find, in the perpetual darkness, but everything kind of _glows_ here and that plus her astromech’s navigation means it only takes her a few minutes to find what’s left of the 501st. She lands the A-wing and jumps out, noticing how every clone she sees seems to straighten and brighten upon seeing her.

Is it really that bad?

“Where’s Captain Rex?” Ahsoka asks the nearest clone, who happens to be Tup.

He points to a stack of crates a short distance away from the rest. “Over there, Commander. Are you here to take over from Krell?”

She shrugs, honestly. “I don’t know,” she says, and then she jogs over to the crates. Upon closer inspection, she can see Rex sitting down, leaning back against them. He looks, well, _exhausted._ “You look like hell,” she says dryly, approaching.

~~~

Rex smiles half-heartedly, pushing himself to his feet. “Thanks, Commander,” he huffs. She looks beautiful and put together, like she hasn't just left a raging space battle, but he says, “You do too.”

It makes her smile, and Rex automatically feels more at ease. With Commander Tano here, another Jedi, there will be someone within their rights to stand up to Krell. Because Rex has to follow orders, has to stick to the command structure, but this will make it easier.

“So where is General Krell?” Commander Tano asks, a bite to her voice.

As if summoned, Krell appears by the hangar doors of the landing field, two arms resting behind his back, two resting on his sabers. He takes a moment to spot Rex and his Commander, but when he does, he marches over, scowling. “Captain Rex, you _will_ stand at attention in the presence of your superiors.” Rex, fists curling, throat clenching, complies. He glances briefly over at his squad and sees Fives glowering at Krell’s back. “Padawan Tano, I had heard you were helping to lead the assault on the blockade. What brings you here?”

~~~

“At ease, Rex,” Ahsoka says quietly, and it takes all her Jedi restraint to keep from shooting a venomous glare at Krell. “Barriss has the blockade assault well in hand,” she lies as calmly as she can, “and I’m here because--” because why? “Some of the men are worried about the situation and thought another Jedi might help.” She’s seen Krell fight. He shouldn’t be losing so many men if he’s up on the front lines the way she and Anakin usually are, which means he’s _not_ fighting, and… well. She barely manages to keep herself from snarling at him.

“You jeopardized the entire assault on the planet at the word of a few _clones?”_ Krell growls. His glare would make most Padawans shrink back, but she is not _most Padawans._ She has been trained by _Anakin Skywalker._ And these are _her men._

“Only a poor leader willfully disregards what his subordinate officers say,” she says, a bite to her voice, her spine straight and head held high. “If Rex and the others are concerned, I _listen._ Even a single Jedi can make a _huge_ difference on the front line.”

~~~

Rex has to fight off a proud smile. For the first time in days, some of the tension leaves his shoulders and he lets out a soft sigh. (Ahsoka can handle Krell fine, and he can worry about his troops.) Predictably, Krell bares his teeth in an insulted scowl, eyes flashing. “What would you know about it, _Padawan_? I appreciate” - Rex knows he doesn’t - “your feedback and your assistance, but you will not, I hope, presume to tell me how to lead my battalion.”

Rex had hoped that would be exactly what she did, but something about the way Krell says “Padawan” makes him suddenly nervous. Because Commander Tano is just that: a padawan and a commander - Krell outranks her on all fronts. But surely he’ll still listen to her input?

He can tell, from years working with her, that Commander Tano is _fuming_ \- her jaw is set and her eyes are cold and her voice is clipped when she answers. “I won’t. But I have fought with this battalion for a long time and I know what they’re capable of, so I’m sure you can see the wisdom in listening to what I have to say.”

Krell sneers a little, and Rex’s stomach drops. “Of course, Padawan. If you will excuse me - I’m planning an assault on the capital just now.” He turns to go without another word, and Rex watches, feeling cold.

“He says we’re going to try a full frontal assault on the capital,” he explains, pointing towards the route they’re supposed to take just as another set of missiles turns the landscape red and green. “On our own.” It’s another suicide march - but this time, Rex doesn’t think they’ll survive it if they can’t change Krell’s mind.

~~~

“Is he _insane?”_ Ahsoka exclaims, eyes going wide. “That’s a literal suicide mission--we could _never_ make it to the capital that way, and he should know that.”

“None of us would survive,” Rex agrees, more calmly. Under his breath, he adds, “It almost feels like that’s what he _wants.”_

Perhaps he hadn’t meant for her to hear that last bit, but Torgruta hearing is more sensitive than most people remember. “If that’s what he wants, he won’t get it. Not while I’m here,” she says fiercely. Maybe if they could come up with another plan, Krell would listen? “We need to cut their supply lines,” she muses, pushing away her anger as best as she can and focusing on the problem. “If we could destroy that supply ship, we might have a chance. But there’s a Separatist _fleet_ up there, and our reinforcements hadn’t arrived, last I’d heard. Besides, we don’t have ships.” The only ship they have is her A-wing, and that would get shot down before she got anywhere _near_ the supply ship.

~~~

Rex sighs. “We do have some Umbaran ships,” he says. “Which we don’t know how to fly.”

Fives overhears him and walks overs, Jesse following him. “Maybe we could figure it out. Jesse and I have been talking.”

Rex thinks that anything that begins with Fives and Jesse _talking_ is bound to be bad. “And?” he says anyway. “Fives and Jesse” bad is better than “Krell” bad.

“Remember the time General Skywalker told us how he blew up a droid command ship when he was a kid?” Fives asks.

Of course Rex remembers; the General has made it obvious how proud he still is of the exploit, because he talks about it _extensively_. “Yeah?”

“If we hit the supply ship’s reactor, we can take it out easily,” Jesse says eagerly. Hardcase and some of the others have wandered over too and stand listening. “We could take some of their own ships through the blockade so they wouldn’t stop us and go for the supply ship before they knew what hit them.”

“The fact remains that we can’t fly those ships. Not unless you can, Commander?” Rex asks, turning a little. She shrugs, looking doubtful.

“I don’t know. I could look at them at least.”

If they can make it work and figure out those ships, Fives and Jesse might have solved their problem - or at least part of it. No supply ships, no more arms being delivered to the capital, and they might actually have a chance. “We can run it past Krell,” he says. It’s a good plan, or at least the bones of one, and with his Commander’s backing, Krell might actually listen.

~~~

Anakin would _love_ this plan. “My Master’s going to be angry he missed this one,” she says.

(She doesn’t say--no one does--that if Anakin were here, they might not even _need_ this plan, but she knows they’re all thinking it.)

“It’s a good idea. Fives, Jesse, you and whoever else wants to volunteer should start looking at those ships. See what you can figure out. Rex and I will go talk to General Krell.”

“Yes, sir,” Jesse says with a grin, grabbing his helmet. He heads over to what looks to be the hangar, a spring to his step that hadn’t been there when she’d first arrived.

“It sure is good to have you back, Commander,” Fives says, and follows the other clone, after tossing a jaunty salute her way.

Ahsoka turns to Rex. “Where do you think Krell went?”

“Probably the control tower,” Rex says. “Follow me, Commander. I’ll take you there.”

~~~

Krell doesn’t even turn around when they walk in. As he’s taken to doing lately, Rex salutes before settling into parade rest. He finds Krell is more inclined to listen when he sticks strictly to protocol.

“Padawan Tano. Captain Rex. Do you need something?”

Rex nods to Ahsoka, and she walks around to stand across from Krell so he has to look at her. “Master Krell, I was discussing the plan of attack with some of the troops. I hear you’re planning a full frontal assault on the capital?”

“I am,” Krell says, a growl to his voice. He glances at Rex, and Rex meets his gaze as steadily as he can. “Do you have something to say about it?”

“Actually I do, Master. It seems like taking out the supply ship would give us a significant advantage.”

“Most likely,” the general admits.

“Wouldn’t it be possible to use some of the Umbarans’ own ships to target the supply vessel?” Ahsoka says, and Rex is impressed by how calm and at ease she sounds. “It would be easy to get past their blockade with a few of them.”

“And who will fly them, Padawan Tano?” Krell says dismissively. “None of these clones are pilots, and for that matter neither are you.”

Ahsoka lifts her chin and raises an eyebrow, and Rex can tell she’s _annoyed_. “And yet I was chosen to lead the assault on the blockade. As a pilot. I know how to fly a ship, Master Krell.”

“Be that as it may, if you are here to assist with the battle, I can’t have you wasting your time on a frivolous, ill-conceived mission. We don’t have the time or the resources for it. We will proceed with the original plan.”

Rex’s chest tightens and he meets Ahsoka’s eyes. She _has_ to get Krell to listen - somebody does - or else he and his battalion are going to get _slaughtered_. Maybe it is a daring plan, probably even crazy, but it’s better than suicide. Better than nothing.

~~~

“They might not be pilots, but the men are smart, and they learn fast,” Ahsoka says carefully. “We have the numbers to spare--”

“Are you _honestly_ suggesting that these _clones_ are intelligent enough to learn to fly a totally unfamiliar ship within hours?” Krell laughs. He actually _laughs,_ and Ahsoka wishes she could put a fist through his face. “The answer is _no,_ Padawan Tano, and that’s final.”

“Fine,” she snarls. “Let’s go, Rex.”

She turns and storms to the entrance to the room, only to freeze when Krell speaks again: “It’s a shame your Master is Knight Skywalker. He’s made you just as reckless, overconfident, and foolish as he is. What a waste--you had so much potential.”

~~~

Rex stops too, turning, unsure for a moment what he’s going to do but knowing he wants to protest. His heartbeat rushes in his ears. General Skywalker is a good General, unlike Krell, and while he _is_ reckless, he also listens to Rex and Ahsoka and even regular troopers like Tup. And he’s seen how Ahsoka has learned from him, become just as brave and daring without once dismissing his brothers like so many do. For a fleeting moment, he's almost ready to say something, to tell the general that he's said too much. _Enough is enough._

But Ahsoka beats him to it. She marches a few steps back towards Krell, her eyes _blazing_ , folding her arms over her chest. Krell towers over her, but just now Rex wouldn't have bet on Krell in a fight. “He's a better Master _and_ General than you'll ever be,” she hisses. Rex strides a little closer to her because Krell is actually _growling_ , disdainful and angry, leaning forward into her space. “I'd rather ‘waste my potential’ with him than end up anything like you.”

Krell sneers and straightens, waving a hand dismissively. “I don't have time for this now. We're attacking the capitol in ten hours.”

Rex grits his teeth and heads for the door even before Ahsoka does. If he doesn't, he's afraid he'll do something reckless. Ahsoka holds Krell’s gaze for another moment before turning on her heel and following Rex.

~~~

“That overgrown son of a…” Ahsoka trails off before spitting out a Huttese phrase she’s picked up from Anakin. “How could the Council make _him_ a Master, but not Master Skywalker?”

Rex stays silent, for which she’s grateful. “Well, it doesn’t matter,” she decides, taking Rex’s silence to mean he agrees with her. “Because the 501st isn’t _his_ battalion. It’s mine.”

“But sir,” Rex starts, “he’s a general, and you’re a commander…”

“Whose orders would you follow?” she asks, raising an eyebrow. There’s a pause. “Like I said: my battalion.”

He doesn’t argue, maybe because he’s realized it’s futile. They walk the rest of the way to the hangar in silence.

The hangar is most decidedly _not_ silent. One of the clones--Hardcase, she’s pretty sure--is flying an Umbaran starfighter _around the hangar,_ periodically strafing the walls with plasma blasts from the cannons and whooping. “What are you _doing?”_ she yells, half-afraid, half-impressed.

“What you told us to, Commander!” Hardcase (it’s definitely Hardcase) shouts, a massive grin on his face.

She’s fairly sure _shoot the hangar walls_ never came out of her mouth, but hey. It’s not like she and Anakin haven’t done their fare share of _creatively interpreting_ orders. “I need you to land for a minute!”

“Yes, sir!” Hardcase does _something_ with his hands (she can’t see well enough to tell), but instead of landing, he launches a pair of blue-white missiles. The fighter rocks with the recoil and the missiles blast a hole in the hangar wall. There’s a sudden silence, after that; Hardcase finally gets the fighter landed and leaps out. He’s positively _gleeful._

Ahsoka opens her mouth to say something about it, then changes her mind--there’s more important things to discuss. (And it’s _Hardcase._ He probably launched the missiles on purpose. For _fun.)_ “Krell said no,” she starts, as Fives and Jesse come over to join them. At the anger darkening their faces, she hurries to continue on. “But I’m countermanding that order. Technically, he never ordered us _not_ to do it. So as your Commander, I’m ordering the three of you to take the Umbaran fighters and go blow that supply ship to smithereens.”

~~~

Rex smiles as his men start cheering. This is part of why he brought Commander Tano here, because she can approve actions he can't. Now they have a _chance_ , a real one. “Hardcase, get as much of this cleaned up as you can.” (No doubt General Krell will want to know why his hangar has a hole in it, and the truth won't do.) Hardcase and some of the others scramble off to do what he said.

He turns to Ahsoka, sighing and nodding to her. “Thank you, sir. You don't know what this means to me.”

“Of course, Rex,” she says, and her smile is soft and understanding. “You're my men too, and I protect my men.”

There's an all-too-familiar tightness in his stomach when Ahsoka calls them _her_ men. Her protectiveness of them is refreshing after two days of Krell’s careless leadership. Although he can't stop worrying altogether, it's nice to be able to have someone above him he _trusts._

As if his thought has summoned him, Krell suddenly appears with three clones behind him, surveying the damage in the hangar. “What _happened_?” he growls.

~~~

Fives opens his mouth.

Before disaster can strike, Ahsoka steps forward, drawing Krell’s eyes to her. “One of the starfighters had a weapons system malfunction during a routine inspection. Everything is under control now.”

“There are _plasma burns_ on the walls,” Krell points out, suspicious.

Keeping a perfectly straight face, she says, “It was a very big malfunction, Master Krell.”

It’s obvious he doesn’t believe her. Rounding on Fives with a sudden aggressiveness that makes the clone actually take a few steps back, he spits out, “Is that what happened here, clone?”

Fives goes pale, and his voice is strangled when he answers. “Yes, sir. That’s--that’s what happened. Exactly.” Out of Krell’s vision, Hardcase makes a slashing motion across his neck, and Fives slams his mouth shut with an audible _click._

Krell looks… _disgusted._ “Keep a closer eye on the clones, Padawan Tano. Thus far you have proven yourself to be just as incompetent as this battalion. Captain Rex, come with me. I would like to speak with you.”

~~~

Rex nods. “Of course, sir.” He glances at Ahsoka as they walk out of the hangar. She looks as concerned as he feels. He doesn't know what Krell wants.

Krell is silent until they reach the command center, when he rounds on Rex and crosses all four of his arms and narrows his eyes. “Which of your men commed Padawan Tano?”

“Sir?” Rex says, mind racing.

“Who asked the padawan to come here? She was needed in the space battle and she's interfering with our operations here.”

Rex squares his jaw and meets Krell's yellow eyes. He can't put the blame on any of his men; Krell is furious. “I commed her, sir,” he says firmly, tightening his grip on his helmet. “I thought-”

“I don't care what you _thought_ ,” Krell snarls, reaching out and stabbing his finger into Rex’s chest armor. “Calling Padawan Tano for help was not your decision to make.”

“We haven't been making much headway, general. It seemed like another Jedi could help us gain more ground.”

“She is an undisciplined, inexperienced girl and you thought it made sense to enlist _her_ help.”

“We've fought together many times, general,” Rex says, unable to keep the sharpness out of his voice. Maybe Ahsoka isn't as experienced as Krell, but she's not naive, either. “I trust her judgement and she's a good fighter.”

Krell's expression gets stormier, if that's even possible, and he says derisively, “Your recommendation is hardly credible, _CT-7567_. To you even the Jedi younglings would seem like good fighters.”

“All due respect,” and Rex only owes Krell respect because of his rank and for honor’s sake, “but I've fought with Generals Skywalker, Kenobi, and Unduli. I know when a Jedi is a _good fighter_. Sir.” He's almost (but not quite) insulted Krell just now, and from the general’s reaction (a snarl and a few heavy steps towards Rex), he knows it.

“Take care, Captain Rex,” he says lowly, threatening. Rex lifts his chin and holds Krell’s gaze. “Remember your place.”

Rex is _trying,_ but he's not so sure what it is anymore. He lifts his helmet and puts it on so Krell can't see his face. “I understand, general,” he says tightly.

“Dismissed.” Krell's voice is _cold._

Rex is all too glad to turn and leave the command center, although turning his back on Krell suddenly feels _dangerous._

~~~

By the time Rex gets back to the hangar, Ahsoka’s gotten Jesse, Fives, and Hardcase in their starfighters and in the air; she’s also managed to finish cleaning up most of the debris from Hardcase’s ‘trial run’ of the missiles and pile it in a corner. She’d _tried_ to get her comm to work, to see how Barriss is doing, but there’s nothing but static: the Umbarans are jamming transmissions again.

Rex has his helmet on, but the moment he’s inside the hangar he pulls it off, tucking it under his arm and swearing in Mando’a, scrubbing one hand over his face. His jaw is clenched and he moves stiffly, tension thick in every muscle. “I take it your conversation didn’t go well?” she asks, a bit wryly.

Rex picks up his helmet, crosses the hangar, and sits next to her, leaning back against a crate. “He wanted to know who commed you, and he’s not very happy about it.” She gets the sense that’s only half the story, if he’s telling her even _that_ much; the Force is seething with frustration and anger and hurt and worry so strong it’s palpable even over the general aura of fear and discontent the entire base is exuding. “He insulted you,” he adds, after a moment, but she can tell most of his words are balled up in his throat, trapped by the emotions he needs to release.

If he were a Jedi, he’d probably be told to meditate, but meditation never worked for Anakin and it’s _hard_ for her and there’s no way it’ll help Rex.

But she knows something that will.

“Spar with me?” she asks, standing and offering him a hand. “There’s plenty of room.”

He takes her offered hand and gets to his feet. “I’ll have to take my armor off--to even the field.” There’s a gleam of mischief in his eye that wasn’t there just a moment ago.

Ahsoka smirks, taking her lightsabers from her belt and setting them down on the crate. “Oh, don’t worry, I’ll go easy on you even if you leave your armor on.”

He frowns, then, though he’s clearly relaxing. “No need, Commander. You may be a Jedi, but I’m a _clone._ You don’t stand a chance.”

“We’ll see about that,” she says, and then she charges.

She starts off by aiming a kick at his stomach; Rex twists out of the way and closes the distance between them while she recovers her balance. She makes a note to try and stay out of his reach--he has an advantage in sheer strength, but she’s faster (even without the Force augmenting her natural abilities). She ducks under a punch he throws, grabs his forearm and twists it (one of the very first moves he’d showed her, when he’d started teaching her hand-to-hand).

Rex chuckles. “I taught you that,” he says, and she’s not sure why he’s bringing that up because _obviously,_ he taught her everything she knows--oh. He spins, putting her at his back, his arm going up over his shoulder--

And then he flips her over. “ And I _didn’t_ teach you that one,” he finishes, sounding almost _smug,_ which won’t do at all.

Ahsoka vaults to her feet, backflips away. “You’ll have to try harder than that,” she says, and then she starts backing away, forcing him to come to her. The longer she evades him, the more his eyes start to darken, the more force he puts into every punch and kick, the faster he goes--until she really _is_ having to pull on the Force just to stay out of his reach.

He throws an uppercut at her face, and she blocks it, but the impact sends her staggering backwards, off-balance--he presses his advantage, sweeping her legs out from underneath her. She falls, hard, lands on her back and immediately rolls back to her feet, aiming a kick at his upper body, a fierce joy spreading through her when the kick makes contact. He moves with the momentum instead of resisting it, though, and just grabs her ankle, and she knows what he’s about to do--out of instinct, she Force-shoves him back.

She realizes her mistake almost immediately. (Stupid, stupid, he fights with Jedi all the _time,_ obviously he’s prepared for anything a Jedi can do.)

Rex is in no way surprised by such a move; instead, he keeps a tight hold on her leg, and the Force-push she’d intended to knock him off-balance _does,_ but it pulls her off with him, and she swears, flailing, blindly kicking out with her other leg.

The landing knocks the air from her lungs, leaving her dazed and breathless--she tries to roll away, but Rex drops down onto her chest, catching her hands when she tries to punch him. And then he just stares down at her, his dark eyes stormy, and waits.

“Fine,” she mumbles, “you win. Let me up.”

He does, pulling her to her feet. “I still want to punch something,” he admits after a moment, almost growling. He turns away from her, clenching his fists and closing his eyes, like he’s trying to remaster himself.

“I--”

Before she can get out more than a word, he’s spinning back around, cutting her off. “Not _you,_ Ahsoka!” His chest heaves, though she can’t tell whether that’s from exertion or emotion.

She freezes at the sound of her name on his lips. There’s a strange _intensity_ in his eyes and his voice, a depth of emotion she’s never _seen_ from him before (he’s so self-contained, so rarely outwardly emotional, that it’s a shock)--but, stars above, never in her wildest dreams has she ever imagined he’d use her _name._

“You called me Ahsoka,” she says, wonder in her voice. (Her name has never sounded more beautiful before, she thinks.)

~~~

Rex _knows_ it’s a mistake the second he says it, the tight hold he normally keeps on his emotions forgotten in the heat of the moment. He struggles to regulate his breathing again, searching for something to say because it’s well outside of protocol to call her by her name, sparring or no. “Sorry, Commander,” he says. He doesn’t really have an excuse. He’s tired and angry but he just hadn’t wanted her to think he was angry at _her_.

“Rex…” Ahsoka- Commander Tano’s voice is soft and _almost_ , he thinks, pleading. “Please don’t apologize. I don’t mind- It’s nice, actually.”

Rex frowns and looks down. It’s not that he doesn’t _want_ to call her by her name, it’s that he needs to keep _some_ kind of distance between them. He can’t allow himself too much familiarity with her. “Still,” he says, fumbles really, “I’m sorry I… lashed out. I’m just worried.” This whole mission has had him on edge since it began, and really he should have known better than to give himself so much free rein. No one needs him distracted right now.

“It’s okay, Rex,” she sighs, and he does like how it feels when they talk like this, “I understand.”

He believes her. She cares what happens to this battalion almost as much as he does, always has. It’s part of the reason he… finds it hard to stay focused when she’s around. He wants to explain further, say why he’s so _angry_ , tell her something of all the confused thoughts in his head about the general and what his place is and how badly he’s wanted to just _take matters into his own hands._ But he hesitates, because he’s hardly sure how to begin and it’s a lot to just blurt out to her.

But Ahsoka is looking at him like she _wants_ him to keep talking and also like she’s sad, and he scratches his head tiredly before shifting where he stands and saying, “It’s Krell.” He’s sure she knows, but it’s somewhere to start. He thinks of Krell getting in his space, dismissing his ideas, suggesting he doesn’t understand the concept of honor. “He’s not fit to be a general.” It’s a big admission, and he fights the urge to scuff his foot on the floor like an uncertain shiny.

~~~

It hurts, that he so clearly doesn’t _want_ to use her name, doesn’t want the level of… closeness, of intimacy, that it implies. She won’t deny that. But she says she understands and she _does;_ if he doesn’t want to use it, she’s hardly going to _force_ him to. That would go against, well, everything she--isn’t supposed to feel. So it’s probably a good thing. She’s not _supposed_ to have, well, _attachments,_ and she’s certainly _attached_ to the entire battalion, but it’s _different,_ with Rex, and--

And nothing. There’s nothing. (She’s going to have to talk to Anakin about this before the attachment grows beyond her ability to control it.)

But Rex is _finally_ talking about what it is that’s gotten him all worked up, and Ahsoka had _guessed_ it would be Krell, but to hear such boldly incriminating words from _Rex,_ of all people--perhaps the most loyal of all the clones--is shocking. And telling. “If you think he’s not fit to command, then I’ll back you,” she says simply. “I trust your judgement, and so does Master, but the Council won’t accept just your word. And so far, nothing I’ve seen is enough to get him removed from command.”

She sighs, presses her hand against her forehead, suddenly exhausted. “He won’t take the unsanctioned mission well, but it’ll be well within his rights as a Master to discipline me however he sees fit,” and she does _not_ wince at the memory of some of the less kind Masters she’d had the misfortune to deliver messages to, “and I’m not sure how much weight my word will carry, after that. I’m _sorry,_ Rex, all I can do right now is--run interference. Keep you as safe as I can.”

It’s not going to be pleasant. But she _cares_ about her men (especially the one standing beside her), and she can handle a Jedi Master better than they can. That’s just a simple fact. If it gets to be too bad, she can always tap into her training bond with her Master and call for him--he’ll come, no matter what, if she’s in trouble. He always does.

~~~

Technically, she’s right - Krell hasn’t done anything yet that’s strictly harmful. He has strategies and tactics that are unusual, they would say, but they have worked in the past. Rex essentially only has a feeling to go on, and his own knowledge of what makes a _good leader_. Krell lacks most of the qualities Rex respects in his superiors.

He didn’t comm Ahsoka so she could come here and fix everything, although if he’s honest that’s how he’d hoped it would go. But she’s put herself between Krell and his men (him), and he thinks that’s enough, after all. That she’s trying.

And he’s afraid Krell is going to be harsh, although he hopes if their tactic works the general will be willing to be lenient. The idea of Krell punishing Ahsoka for helping them is _horrible_ , and she’s apologizing that she won’t be able to help more if he does. Rex almost wants to laugh except it’s far from funny.

“Don’t apologize,” he says wearily. “There’s not much more that either of us can do right now.” _That’s not true,_ part of him whispers. Fives told him the men only follow Krell because he does and he knows, has known, that that’s the case. _If he wanted, most of the battalion would follow him._ But insubordination is too far, however much he… he hates Krell. “I can’t wait till this is over,” quietly, “I want to get off this planet and away from the general.”

~~~

“So do I,” Ahsoka says.

She’s _tired._ It’s more than just simple sleep deprivation; it’s a bone-deep exhaustion, physical, mental, and emotional, and the strain of being the only barrier between her men and a Jedi who would gladly see them all dead and the constant darkness of this _stupid kriffing planet_ is slowly but surely wearing her down. (That has to be the reason why she’s having so much trouble with her emotions now--she’s so tired she can’t keep herself together.) “I hate this planet, Rex,” she finally admits, staring down at the ground. “It’s just--awful. There’s something about it that… the Force is so _defeated_ and negative and none of my shields can keep that out.”

He won’t understand, but that’s alright. “And there’s something about Krell that has me on edge, too. I didn’t notice it earlier, but he almost feels… cold.” (It reminds her a little bit of Mortis, of when the Son took control of her; she’d been locked in ice, it seemed, frozen in a glacier of Darkness while her body acted out of her control.) She shivers.

~~~

Rex isn’t entirely sure what she means, but in a way it makes sense. Sometimes he feels like he’s never going to see the sun again after all this darkness, and the constant attacks and all the death and Krell’s lack of concern for what he’s _doing to them_. He’s not Force-sensitive, but he thinks he understands why Krell feels cold.

When she shivers he wants to put an arm around her, something, because it’s not like she’s actually cold, it’s like she’s scared. It’s rare that she looks this small to him, even though she’s never been particularly tall. How comforting that would even be, he’s not sure (he is, after all, still in his armor), but he doesn’t like just _standing_ here when she looks this out of her depth.

“Ahsoka-” he starts, hesitant, anxious, but he stops because he sees two familiar silhouettes in the new opening in the hangar wall. He’s suddenly glad he didn’t put his arm around Ahsoka - he doesn’t want to have to deal with what Fives’ reaction would be.

And there are only _two_ silhouettes.

It’s Fives and Jesse, and they take off their helmets as they approach. Any hope Rex had that Hardcase might just be locking down the ships is dampened by the looks on their faces: solemn and tired.

“You did it?” he asks, gruffly.

“Yeah,” Fives says. He taps his helmet against his side and glances at Jesse. “Well, Hardcase did.”

Rex bows his head briefly and lets out a quiet sigh through his nose. Really he should be grateful the plan even worked. Maybe Krell won’t punish them too severely for the escapade since it turned out so well.

Except that Hardcase is dead now. He’s lost another one. At least this time it’s not for nothing.

“I’m sorry,” Ahsoka says softly, to all of them, and Rex nods to her, grateful. This is probably the only moment they’ll get for a while to remember Hardcase, so he stays quiet and just breathes for a bit. He can hear Fives tapping a restless, light pattern on his helmet.

The hangar door hisses open, and Rex turns, half-expecting to see Krell already. Instead, it’s four troopers. They hesitate when they see the solemn little circle in the middle of the hangar, but they still come over, and Tup, who’s leading them, says, “General Krell wants you four in the command center. He wanted Hardcase too, but…” Tup shrugs a little and Rex can tell he’s at a loss.

Rex takes a steadying breath and nods. “Thanks, Tup. We’ll come.”

~~~

Ahsoka takes a deep breath and follows Tup and the other three (one is Kix, she thinks, and another--probably Dogma) out of the hangar and to the command center. Part of her notices that Rex stays fairly close to her side, to her right and one step behind her, protecting her flank--she appreciates that, more than he probably knows.

Krell has his back to the door when they enter; he’s leaning against the holotable in the center, two arms behind his back, the other two resting on the table’s edge. “I seem to distinctly recall forbidding an attack on the supply ship,” he says as he turns, and the _cold_ is back, not just in his voice but all around her (and even though it’s faint, it’s pervasive, it clings to her and she can’t get _away),_ and she shivers again and crosses her arms across her chest. Krell looks surprised, for once. “You can feel that?” he murmurs, so softly she’s not sure he actually meant to say it aloud, “More perceptive than I realized.” And then the strange, quiet moment is gone. “Would you care to explain how such an attack came to be, Padawan Tano?”

She swallows, steps forward, unnerved by the glittering _danger_ in his eyes; her hands go to her ‘sabers on instinct, only to find emptiness--she’d left them sitting on the crate in the hangar. She tries not to panic at the realization, but that predatory gleam in Krell’s eyes sharpens, and she’s pretty sure she’s failing.

Rex tries to step up with her, but she waves him back with a small hand signal--technically, he wasn’t involved in the mission at all. It was only her. She lifts her chin and meets Krell’s gaze, reaching for all the strength she can muster. “Fives, Jesse, and Hardcase acted on my orders. I’m the only one at fault--it would’ve been insubordination if they hadn’t done it.” She’s technically telling the truth. “And, frankly, Master Krell,” and where is she getting the courage to say this? “you should be _thanking_ them. Had they not risked their lives--and, in Hardcase’s case, sacrificed his life--in the attack, the entire battalion would’ve likely been wiped out attempting to storm the capital--”

Krell storms forward, his eyes suddenly _blazing_ gold, that awful cold aura growing again, freezing her into silence, her voice cutting out just before he lifts one massive, meaty hand and backhands her across the face with all his strength. Her head snaps to one side, the force of the slap flinging her across the room and into the wall; her head hits first, and for a moment there’s blackness swimming across her vision before she struggles out of it.

“I will _not_ tolerate insubordination,” Krell is snarling down at her. She blinks up at him, dazed, trying to get her eyes to focus properly (it takes a moment, but they finally do), and then frowns at the taste of blood in her mouth, spitting it on the floor. She must’ve bitten her tongue. “Especially not from you, Padawan. You ought to know better.”

Ahsoka glares up at him and, in perfect Huttese, snaps, “E chu ta,” a rather nasty phrase Anakin had gleefully taught her.

Krell apparently at least recognizes the _intention_ of the phrase, even if he doesn’t know exactly what it means, and he practically _roars_ and drives his booted foot into her stomach, knocking the air from her lungs in a _whoosh._ “You _will_ treat your superiors with respect!”

Gasping, she chokes out, “You’re not my Master.”

~~~

When Krell slaps her, for a moment Rex can only see red, can only hear the blood rushing in his ears, and he takes two long strides forward because _this_ is too much. Fives and Jesse are both cursing and the four troopers who brought them in (who've grabbed Fives and Jesse’s arms to hold them still) are looking at Rex to see what he's going to do.

He doesn't _know_ because technically Krell can do this, but it isn't _right_ and Rex can't, won't allow it.

She spits out blood and Rex is so _sick of this_.

It's not until she swears at Krell and the general kicks her while she's still on the ground that Rex closes the rest of the distance between him and Krell in a few steps.

“You _will_ treat your superiors with respect,” he says, and Rex would kill him. But he can't.

“You're not my Master,” Ahsoka says.

Krell snarls and raises his hand again, and Rex grabs his arm and pours every ounce of cold authority he has into one word.

“Enough.”

It draws Krell's attention away from Ahsoka and that's okay with Rex, although Krell's glare is freezing and deadly. “What did you say, clone?”

“I said that's enough. That's _more_ than enough. She authorized an attack on the supply ship that worked. Don't punish her because you wish you could claim it was your success.”

Krell _growls_ and Rex forces himself not to step back, even though now he's watching those hands in case he needs to move fast. “You tread close to insubordination yourself. Are you presuming to command me, _Captain_ Rex?”

“No sir,” but Rex might as well be and he's on shaky ground and he doesn't know what's going to happen. “But you went too far.”

“Well,” and Krell sounds murderous but he glances at Tup’s group and Tup’s hands are loose on Fives’ arm. Fives and Jesse are glaring darkly, and Rex realizes he has them all on his side, except perhaps Dogma. Krell straightens and some of the fire in his eyes dampens. “If I was it was not without reason. She and the other… two have committed a serious crime. I can't let that go unpunished.”

It's a terrible, flimsy excuse, but it's purposely de-escalating and Rex goes along with it because he can't risk angering Krell again and getting anyone hurt anymore.

He nods shortly, not quite trusting himself to speak. Ahsoka has gotten to her feet behind Krell and it's a relief to see she's standing fairly steadily. Krell holds his eyes as he says, “And you two. ARC-5555 and CT-5597. You will explain your actions.”

~~~

Ahsoka can barely breathe, still, and she's shaky--the cold has only gotten worse, and she's beginning to think she knows what it is. Still, she nearly Force-pushes Krell across the room when he starts snarling at Rex. How _dare_ he?

But the last straw is using numbers.

“They have _names,”_ she hisses, pushing away from the wall she's been balancing on. “They're _people,_ not wind-up soldiers you can throw away after a battle!” She puts herself squarely in between Krell and the clones, even though every instinct screams at her that she's making a mistake. (But it's better for him to be angry at her than at the clones. At least she can fight back.) “Fives, Jesse, you are under no obligation to talk to him unless you want to and he treats you with _respect.”_

Rex is probably going to kill her.

“Somebody get my lightsabers, _please,”_ she adds, and hopes it's anyone but Rex who leaves. “I have a question of my own for you, Krell: why do you _reek_ of the Dark Side of the Force?”

~~~

“None of you move,” Krell says, his voice _heavy_ with command. Rex feels a bit like he's _suffocating_ and he shakes himself, trying to focus. “This accusation is the height of treason,” Krell says lowly, turning fully to face Ahsoka. This is the calmest and coldest Rex has heard him so far and it makes him tense, looking to his fellow clones. If Ahsoka says Krell feels like the Dark Side, then he does - and that's worse than Rex thought. But if they attack him with only the proof of Ahsoka's claim, no one will call it anything but treason and nothing will have been accomplished.

Rex isn't sure how to stop the situation this time, so he hesitates, waits for something to make sense so he knows what to do.

“You, a mere padawan, claim to know what the Dark Side feels like? Are you so unashamed of your crime you're willing to accuse me of turning?” Krell’s hand comes to rest on one of his sabers and Rex feels cold. He starts counting breaths, clenching and unclenching his fist.

“I know what the Dark Side feels like,” Ahsoka says, and she looks deadly in her own way, fierce and proud and determined. “I've _been_ the Dark Side.”

“You're a child telling stories,” Krell says, and Rex counts his breaths slower, watches Ahsoka's face, hopes against hope that Krell won't touch her again because he wouldn't know how to stop him then. “Troopers, take these three and lock them up in the brig in separate cells.”

He puts his other hand on his other saber, a clear threat if they don't obey. “You will answer to the Council for your actions, Padawan. As for you, _Fives and Jesse,_ you will be court martialed and be found guilty. You will pay for crossing me.”

Rex hurries over to grab Ahsoka’s arm, ostensibly so he can escort her to the brig, actually because he's worried about her and whether she should even be standing.

“Dismissed,” Krell says, and Rex nods to Tup. They have to listen still for the sake of their whole battalion, however much Rex _hates_ it, hates himself for complying. Is this honor or something else? He doesn't know.

~~~

Ahsoka is nearly crying by the time Krell dismisses them, her panic fighting its way free of her control despite her best efforts. To make matters worse, she's _dizzy,_ and walking is _hard._ She keeps half-falling into Rex, and she's grateful for his grip on her arm keeping her upright.

“He feels like Mortis,” she says softly, “you have to believe me. The cold--just less freezing. And what Jedi has such a disregard for _life?”_ She shudders. “This isn't right, he'll get you all killed, I need to _be there_ to help--you'll have a better chance with a Jedi on the front lines.”

Another wave of dizziness hits, and she swears faintly, staggering into Rex again. “Kriffing head injuries.”

~~~

Ahsoka can't seem to put one foot in front of the other quite right, and she's rambling a bit. Rex can tell Kix wants to have a look at her but they need to get well away from Krell first. He lets go of her arm and fits an arm around her back instead, under her shoulders. “Of course we believe you, Ahsoka,” he says. “We'll figure it out.” She's in no state to fight (hell, she's struggling to _walk_ ) and now she's going to be stuck down here, but he's going to work something out, some way to fix this.

“What are you going to do, Captain?” Fives says, and Rex almost snaps at him.

“I don't _know_.”

When they get to the brig and take the lift down to an open block of cells, Kix peels off his helmet. “Commander Tano, I'd appreciate it if you'd let me look at your injuries before we… lock you up.”

“Of course, Kix,” she says tiredly, and Rex helps her sit down and then takes a step back so Kix has room to work. His own, uneducated guess would be a concussion and bruised ribs. Kix comes over and crouches down, offering Ahsoka an apologetic smile.

“I'm sorry, Commander.”

~~~

“It's not your fault,” Ahsoka murmurs. “I should've tried to reach Anakin first. My head hurts too much now, I can't focus.” She swallows and does her best to follow along as Kix goes through a concussion test with her, even though she's sure it's fairly obvious.

“You definitely have a moderate concussion, Commander,” Kix says, and then he feels her ribs. She hisses in pain when he probes sore spots. “A cracked rib or two, I think, also. You'll have to take a couple weeks off.”

“Like _that's_ ever going to happen,” she says. “Fives, Jesse, I'm sorry I got you into this. Rex, please don't kill him, you'll get court-martialed too.” Talking is hard. Keeping her words from slurring together is even harder. “Don't fight him, he'll kill you,” she finishes, after a moment of struggling to breathe.

~~~

Fives laughs sharply, angrily. Rex knows what he's thinking, what he wants. But they can't fight Krell, not now. This mission is vital to the Republic and it already hangs in the balance.

But he also doesn't answer Ahsoka because he's contemplating what they can do, what will happen if everything goes _wrong._ (If this doesn't qualify.)

“Fives, Jesse,” he says, turning to them. “I need your upper body armor.” It's procedure, but he wishes he didn't have to ask them.

They nod and start pulling off their pauldrons and braces and chest plates, and Rex takes each piece as they hand it to him. It's a silent promise to keep the armor for them, to take care of it.

He remembers Ahsoka's sabers then, too - he knows Krell will want to take them, and Rex decides he can't let him. He'll find a way to hide the sabers until he can get them back to her.

Kix stands up and helps Ahsoka to her feet again, more carefully than Rex could have. “She needs to rest at _least_ today,” he says tiredly. “Better if she doesn't have to do anything until she's not getting dizzy or getting headaches anymore.”

Rex nods to his troopers, and they lead Fives and Jesse to a cell together. “Thank you, Kix.”

~~~

“Doesn't look like I have much of a choice, since I'm stuck in here,” Ahsoka says, a little bitterly, and she looks pleadingly at Rex. “My lightsabers--”

“I won't let Krell take them,” Rex promises, and she smiles, relieved.

“Thank you.”

“I'm sorry, Commander, but we have to lock you up now,” Kix says, clearly uncomfortable with the whole situation (she doesn't blame him).

“I know,” she murmurs, “go ahead.”

But she can't stop herself from darting a nervous glance over at Rex (Krell could do _anything_ to her while she's trapped down here, and she wouldn't be able to get away).

~~~

Rex spends the next hour in a bit of haze because he can't stop _thinking_ and it's driving him a little crazy. He gets back his helmet and, anxiously, retrieves Ahsoka’s sabers. He wants to get them to her, but the cells are too bare for her to hide them and if Krell finds out someone got them to her, there would be hell to pay. He ends up hiding them close to Dogma’s bunk, in a crate of blasters. Dogma is the last clone anyone would expect to be hiding the sabers, so with any luck they'll be safe there until Rex knows what he's going to do.

Their assault is due to take place in less than six hours, now, and he still doesn't know how they're going to do this. With Ahsoka in a cell and injured, they've lost what little advantage they'd gained for that attack and now Rex may also have lost the sliver of influence he had with Krell.

Still, after trying (and failing) to rest with the troops, and having to listen to them express his own worries, he decides he has to try to do something. _And sitting still just means he's seeing Krell’s hate-filled eyes staring him down, seeing him throw Ahsoka across the room and draw his saber on Fives._ Krell probably won't listen to him, but he's going to ask if he could reconsider court martialing Fives and Jesse, and if Ahsoka could be allowed at least quarters, somewhere to rest.

He goes to the command center, helmet under his arm, and asks the trooper at the door if he can see Krell. “He's meditating, sir,” the trooper says. “He said not to let anyone disturb him.”

Rex sighs. “You can't talk to him?”

“I'd… rather not. Sir.”

But the door slides open anyway and Krell marches out, hands behind his back. “You've disturbed me as it is, clone. I could feel your anxiety from where I was sitting. What do you _want?_ ”

Although it stings to do it, Rex jumps smartly to attention, tries to pretend he hasn't risked Krell's ire twice today. “With all due respect, General… I would like to ask you to reconsider court martialing Fives and Jesse. Their actions might mean the difference between victory and failure for us and General Kenobi, however insubordinate.”

Krell snorts, and he does seem calmer now, like the meditation has done him good. “They have been vocal in their… disagreement with me since I took over command of this battalion. I have tolerated your troops’ lack of discipline long enough, Captain. I must make an example of them.”

Rex grits his teeth, fighting a nauseous twist in his stomach. “But sir, haven't you yourself said we need every man for our assault on the capital?”

“Yes, and yet Padawan Tano saw fit to send them on a foolish mission anyway, and they obeyed.” Krell looks past Rex, like he's pondering something, and for a moment Rex _hopes_ Krell listens. But then Krell sighs and shakes his head.

“No, Captain. You're right. Court martialing them is not the answer. I don't have the time and I need the men certain that disobedience will not be tolerated. You will have them executed in an hour.”

Rex heart _drops_ , the air rushing out of him like he's been punched. He shouldn't have done this, he's just made it all _worse_ and Krell is smiling at him like he knows. “But sir-”

“ _Dismissed_ , Captain.” And Krell pushes past him and strides off down the hallway. Rex can't _move_ . What has he _done_?

~~~

Ahsoka is curled up on the floor of her cell, trying (and failing) to meditate enough to reach Anakin, when the lift in the center lowers to her level. She lifts her head to see who it is, hoping it's not Krell. (She'd probably feel him before he arrived, but still.)

It's Rex, distraught and _angry,_ with a few other troopers behind him, helmets on. He glances over at her apologetically and then walks over to Fives and Jesse. “Krell has ordered your execution,” he says, and Ahsoka feels her heart go cold.

“What? You _can't!”_ she exclaims, pushing carefully to her feet and to the front of the cell. “If you're going to execute them, you'll have to execute _me,_ too.”

~~~

Rex closes his eyes, wishes this could just be easy. Fives and Jesse are looking at him for an explanation, so he talks to them, although he knows Ahsoka can hear him too. “Technically, he can order whatever punishment he sees fit in a combat zone,” he growls. Krell is still within his rights as a general, although they're long past what any other General would have done.

Fives snorts softly, but he and Jesse both seem resigned as Rex opens their cell door. “Don't beat yourself up about it, Rex. We knew what the consequences were.”

“Speak for yourself,” Jesse snaps, and he's half-serious. Rex knows he didn't go into this blindly, but none of them had _really_ thought Krell would execute them.

“Rex!” Ahsoka calls, and he turns and walks over to her cell, although he's a little afraid of what she's going to say. He's so _confused_ and he just wants this kriffing nightmare to be over but it's not going to be. “He can't do this, Rex,” she's says quietly. “You can't let him.”

“Don't you think I know that?” Rex growls, his stomach _hurting_ . “But he _can_ , Ahsoka, and I don't… What can I _possibly_ do?” Part of him still says that he could just… _refuse._ Could refuse to ask this of his men.

But he has another hope, a last-ditch plan, and he goes to the box that allows them to send meals into the cells, opening it. “I'm giving these to you,” he says softly, and he sets her lightsabers in the box, meeting her eyes. He doesn't know what he wants but he _hopes_ she can do something where he cannot.

Then he goes back to his men and takes Fives’ arm, his heartbeat pounding heavy in his chest.

~~~

Ahsoka takes her sabers gratefully, but she waits until the men have all left before she ignites one and slashes a hole in the cell door. She takes the lift up, her hilts in her hands, and then takes off down the corridor. She stumbles a few times, her vision blurring, and breathing hurts, but she makes it out in time.

The troopers are lined up, Fives and Jesse standing against a wall, with Rex off to one side watching. Their blasters are up, aimed and ready to fire, and Ahsoka Force-jumps across the remaining distance, landing in front of Fives and Jesse with her sabers lit. “Stand _down,_ troopers, that's an _order,”_ she snaps out.

~~~

Rex doesn't feel able to look at his men. The firing squad has come without their helmets, even Dogma. He's without his helmet too - he refuses to hide behind a mask and pretend this is _okay_. It's not.

Fives is glaring at Dogma, who's been calm and cool this entire time. It will be Dogma who gives the order to fire. Rex finds himself thinking like Fives, wondering if Dogma can live with himself if he does this.

Can _Rex_ live with himself?

There's no sign of Ahsoka and as Dogma orders the firing squad to take aim, Rex’s heart stops. He's made a gamble and lost. But he still… still doesn't want to see this happen. Can't.

He knows Fives saw that he gave Ahsoka the sabers, because suddenly Fives bursts into an impassioned speech, and it's heartfelt but also like he's stalling. “We have to be trusted to make the right decisions,” he says. Jesse looks tired, just watches Fives like he wishes he'd just be quiet.

Rex clenches his fist. _Please, Ahsoka._

And then there she is, running out of the control tower and igniting her sabers to jump in front of Fives and Jesse, crouching and shooting an icy glare at the firing squad. She's fierce and angry and she looks more beautiful than he's ever seen her. “Stand _down_ , troopers. That's an _order_.”

He's able to breathe again. Ahsoka doesn't look steady but she's here, and Fives and Jesse are safe for now. The firing squad all drop their weapons easily, with relieved smiles on their faces. Only Dogma still grits his teeth and glares. “What are you doing?” he asks them, almost like he's going to panic.

“The right thing,” Rex says, going up to him and putting a hand on his arm. “If Fives and Jesse can be executed for doing their duty, someday maybe you could be. Any of us could be.”

What he doesn't say is that he knows if he'd let them go through with the execution, he couldn't have lived with himself. That killing their brothers is simply wrong, and goes against everything he has ever fought for. “Take off their restraints,” he says firmly. Fives and Jesse can go back to their cell.

He looks at Ahsoka, who's switched off her sabers but still looks wary, and tries to communicate a silent thank you. This will have gotten them in more trouble, but there's a certain lightness in his chest now, a _relief_. This was the right thing to do. He waves for two of his troopers to take Fives and Jesse back to their cell, hopefully out of Krell's way. “The rest of you go back to your bunks,” he says. Dogma hesitates, but he still obeys, and Rex turns to Ahsoka.

~~~

Ahsoka returns her sabers to her belt, letting out the breath she'd been holding. “Krell will find out about this soon enough,” she says quietly. “I'll probably get thrown back in the brig, at the least.”

She hesitates, and then pulls her sabers off her belt and holds them out. “Keep them safe for me?” she asks, pleading. “I don't want Krell to get them.”

Rex nods, takes the lightsabers and tucks them away. “Thank you,” he says, and it's ostensibly for stopping the firing squad but she hears what's unsaid: _thank you for taking on Krell for us. For making yourself our shield._

“You're all my men,” she tells him in response, deadly serious. “As your Commander and a Jedi, I have a responsibility to protect you. But more than that, you're my _family.”_ Ahsoka manages a smile. “I'll always put myself between you and a blaster--or a lightsaber--whenever I can.”

~~~

Rex wishes he were more eloquent, wishes he could explain the sudden ache in his chest and the _gratefulness_. His men are his brothers, they're all family, but no one seems to understand that, and in a world that seems insistent on branding clones as less than human, no one else claims them as brothers.

But she's handed him her sabers like his brothers hand him their armor or blasters: it's an act of trust. It's that trust that he wants to be worthy of, that his honor _demands_ he respects. He’s always thought their duty is to fight, but maybe it's more about _protection_.

“Thank you,” he says again, hopes she understands how _much_ he means it. He wonders if she knows what an honor she's given him, handing over her weapons to him, or if it's simple to her.

Krell will not hurt any more of his people: not his brothers or his Commander. He can't let him.

~~~

It’s harder than she’d expected, handing her ‘sabers over again so soon after getting them back (Rex tucks them away under the kamas hanging from his belt), but she expects Dogma to have reported to Krell by now, and so the Jedi Master will be here any moment. She tries not to let that terrify her too much. Rex is staring at her like she’s just done something incredible and awe-inspiring, and also like he’s made some sort of decision.

Ahsoka considers him for a moment, wondering what exactly the decision he’s come to _is,_ hoping that maybe he’s going to finally take a stand against Krell. (If Rex refuses to follow Krell, the rest of the battalion will, too.) And she appreciates him giving her her ‘sabers back, allowing her to _do something;_ before she can think too closely about what she’s about to do, she closes the space between them and gives him a hug--brief, but heartfelt. (She wishes she could stay here all day, in the safe space that is Rex’s arms, but she knows better.) “I trust you,” she tells him, instead, using their proximity to say the words in his ear, “completely. When you need me, come get me. I’m going to try and contact Anakin again.”

Then she pulls back and waits for Krell--any moment now, he’s going to come around the corner.

“Ahsoka,” Rex says softly, and there’s that _awe_ in his eyes again, sending something warm and tingly running through her bloodstream, “are you sure?” _Sure about waiting,_ he means, _about letting Krell near you again._

She nods. “If it comes to a fight, I--right now I’m not steady enough on my feet, but I think I can enter a light healing trance to help with the concussion.” _Buy me the time to heal,_ she means, but… it’s so _selfish_ of her, when Krell is so _awful_ to the troopers. “I--”

“If you apologize for something that’s not your fault one more time, sir…” His voice trails off, a threat, and she makes a face at him.

She’s about to make a rebuttal, but then there’s that cold, Dark feeling again, and Krell walks towards her. “Padawan Tano,” he says icily. “What _are_ you doing?”

“Stopping an execution, _General,”_ Ahsoka says, standing tall and proud, emphasizing the lack of a Jedi title.

He notices. “That’s _Master_ to you, Padawan.”

She shakes her head. “I’ll call you Master when you start _acting_ like one,” she spits out, willing herself not to flinch when he storms towards her, reaching out with one arm.

He doesn’t hit her, though, just grabs her upper arm and, quite literally, starts dragging her away.

~~~

Rex takes a truncated step after Krell, fists clenching. A question bursts out of him, almost of its own accord, although by now he should know that trying to talk to Krell just makes everything worse. “What are you going to do with her?” He’s relieved that he sounds detached and professional, not scared, like he feels. His men were just almost executed on Krell’s order and he _knows_ that Krell won’t hesitate to take punishment into his own hands if he sees fit (and again he sees Ahsoka’s lithe body hitting the wall of the command center and dropping to the floor like a discarded toy).

Krell doesn’t even _look_ at him, and he sounds weary when he answers. “I am putting her back in the brig where she belongs. Question me again, clone, and you can join her.”

Rex is a little relieved, and he stands still and lets Krell go. Ahsoka has to scramble to keep up with the general’s pace, and she glances back to meet Rex’s eyes. He’s not at all sure what she’s thinking, what she wants him to do, so he inclines his head to her, hoping he’s done the right thing.

Once they’re gone, he goes back inside himself, hyper-aware of the feeling of Ahsoka’s sabers on his belt. He can’t just carry them around with him, but he doesn’t know where to hide them. He’s sure Krell knows that Ahsoka had the sabers when she stopped the execution and he’s bound to want to know where they are and how she got them - and things are bad enough now, the last thing Rex needs is for Krell to realize that it’s almost as much his fault as it is Ahsoka’s that Fives and Jesse aren’t dead.

There’s an anxious ache in his stomach that he can’t quite ignore because they have to attack the capital soon and Ahsoka is, as far as he knows, alone with Krell and this mission is _so important_ but he’s convinced it’s going to go to hell and they’re going to die, whether the capital has supplies incoming or no, and nothing he thought he knew prepared him for this. He goes back to his bunk, finds his men in nervous huddles around the barracks like they’re waiting for a blow to fall, for more bad news. They all turn and look at him when he shows up, going quiet. He shrugs at them a little - for now, there are no more punishments to be given. Perhaps there will be later (Rex thinks he’s already been insubordinate enough he’ll have earned a serious reprimand after this mission, if not worse), but the time they’re supposed to march is getting closer and that is still their priority.

“Krell is in the brig,” he says tiredly, sitting down on his bunk. “I want to know as soon as he’s back.”

Nobody asks why or disagrees - instead, two of his troopers leave their bunks, presumably to keep watch for him. Rex closes his eyes and rests his head in his hands, exhaustion overtaking him, making his limbs heavy. _Enough_. This can’t go on forever, surely. Even if it’s beginning to feel like it will.

 


	2. Chapter 2

Krell doesn’t let go of her the entire way back to the brig, nor does he slow his pace to let her keep up easier. Instead, Ahsoka is forced to half-trot to keep up, and with her dizziness still there, it’s a struggle to stay upright.

Krell doesn’t _care._

His fingers are like bands of durasteel wrapped around her bicep, and she knows there’s going to be bruises there, later (Anakin will be _furious)._ He doesn’t say a word, doesn’t even look at her, at least not until they take the lift down to her level in the brig and he sees the obvious lightsaber-made hole in the door of her previous cell.

“Well,” he says, “I suppose the clone spoke the truth about you having your ‘sabers.”

Fives and Jesse are back in the same cell they’d been in earlier, and Krell doesn’t spare them a glance, though Ahsoka glances over at the two of them, noting the tightness around their eyes and the worry in their body language. She avoids making eye contact, instead keeping her eyes firmly on Krell’s chest as he speaks. She doesn’t answer him--he didn’t ask a question, after all.

“Where are your lightsabers, Padawan?”

Okay, now he’s asking a question, but still. She doesn’t _have_ to answer, and so she doesn’t, because he’s not her Master so the only reason she has to obey him is military protocol and she’s already _been_ insubordinate, so what does it matter if she continues to be so?

Krell jerks on her arm, another of his hands wrapping around her jaw with crushing strength, forcing her to meet his gaze. “You _will_ answer me.”

Except she _can’t,_ because she can’t open her mouth. Krell seems to realize that after a moment, because he lets go, though his glare only increases, as though he hopes to bore a hole through her skull with his eyes alone.

She’s fairly sure he wouldn’t hesitate, if he _could._

“I don’t know,” she says firmly, and she shores up her mental shields. “I left them in the hangar.”

 _“Tell me the truth,”_ he hisses, and that’s hardly a Force-suggestion, more of a Force- _order,_ and she’s hardly _weak-minded_ but he’s so _cold_ and she can barely keep her mouth closed. “Who gave you your lightsabers?” and he’s _still pushing,_ and she squeezes her eyes shut.

“Breaking into people’s minds is against the Jedi Code,” she manages, hears Fives and Jesse gasp, but she can’t spare the focus to think about them right now, because Krell is bearing down on her in the Force with all the strength of a mountain, immovable and rock-solid and so, so _heavy._ She tries to pull away from him, but she _can’t,_ his grip on her arm is too strong, and there’s an awful headache building behind her eyes. “Let _go!”_

There’s a silence that seems to stretch on into eternity, and then he says, simply, “No.”

The pressure increases, if that’s even _possible,_ and there’s a long time (maybe not very long, her heart is pounding like it’s trying to take flight and she’s almost hyperventilating) in which she can’t even _think,_ all her strength and focus consumed by the monumental task of just holding Krell off. It _hurts,_ that’s the thing; he’s forcing her mind into a smaller and smaller space, compressing her whole _self_ beneath him, like a bug squished beneath a boot, and she--

“Master,” she breathes, the idea hitting her then, and she _reaches_ through the training bond, opens it all the way, as wide as it can go, feeling Anakin’s sudden sharp spike of _worry-fear-horror-pain_ like it’s her own, _Master help he’s killing them he’s Dark please help me I can’t stop him_ and then her shields finally, _finally_ shatter and she _screams._

But before Krell can ravage through her memories in search of the answer she’s denying him, a new set of shields wraps around her, surrounding her in warmth and love and comfort, taking away the pain and replacing it with _pride. You did well, Snips,_ he tells her, _he didn’t see anything, and I’m coming for you. I promise. Just hold out a little longer--I have to get free from the Chancellor first. Now_ **_sleep._ **

And, exhausted beyond belief, Ahsoka does.

~~~

Rex’s men report back after maybe twenty minutes, both looking nervous. “He was coming this way,” they say, “but someone commed him from the control tower. There’s apparently a report back from a scout. He looked _really_ angry, Captain.”

That’s not unusual for Krell, but Rex shivers because of what that could mean for Ahsoka and Fives and Jesse. He stands, automatically checking to make sure he still has the sabers clipped to his belt. He’d planned to leave them in Fives and Jesse’s cell because that’s the last place anyone would think to look - now he also wants to make sure they’re all okay.

Putting on his helmet, he leaves the barracks again and takes the lift down to the now-familiar block of cells. He doesn’t feel _right_ \- there’s an unbalanced feeling in his stomach and he’s learned long ago to listen to his instincts, so he’s wary as the lift comes to a stop. Ahsoka’s old cell is a wreck (he feels a little proud). Fives and Jesse are pacing in their cell but they stop when they see him and he follows their eyes to another cell, automatically dropping a hand to his blaster because they look _frozen_ and scared. Ahsoka is lying in a crumpled heap on the floor of the cell and his first thought is that she’s _dead_ , that his Commander is _gone_ , so he turns on Fives, snarling, “What _happened?_ ” _Tell me she's okay_.

“I don’t know,” Fives says, and he hasn’t sounded this scared since this whole thing started; his voice is shaky and his eyes are almost haunted. “I don’t know, Rex, he asked her where her lightsabers were and the next thing I knew she was screaming and then it just _stopped_ and I don’t- She said he was in her _head._ ”

Rex feels _sick_ . He’s failed her _again_ \- he shouldn’t have just let Krell take her, he should have _protected_ her. Krell doesn't belong in her head, Ahsoka's thoughts aren't his, and Fives’ words circle in his head. _She was screaming and then it just stopped._ He strides over to her cell and slams the door open, heart beating in time to a desperate hope. _Don’t be dead_. He kneels by her side, grabs her wrist to search for a pulse (and he can’t quite admit it but he’s panicking). It’s a heady relief when he finds it, slow and steady. He can breathe again. Easing one arm under her head, he fits the other under her knees and stands, walking over to the cell’s sad excuse for a bunk. At the very least he won’t leave her lying on the floor. He lays her carefully on her side, wishes there was more he could do. She looks relatively peaceful so he makes that be enough, walks back out of the cell and shuts the door. There’s a fire lit in his veins, something fierce and protective and (he thinks) powerful.

“Captain?” Fives is watching him closely, and Rex is somewhat glad for his helmet because just now - his thoughts feel dangerous and he’s afraid to let them materialize into words, actions.

And then his comm sparks to life and it’s _Krell_. “Captain Rex, I want you in the command center. Now.”

“On my way, general.”

“Captain, I can’t believe I’m saying this, but don’t do anything stupid,” Jesse says, and it’s evident that he’s scared too. Scared of what Krell did to Ahsoka.

Rex strides over to their cell and unhooks Ahsoka’s sabers from his belt. “I’m leaving these with you,” he says gruffly. Fives nods, understanding, and Rex sets them in the meal drop, hesitant to let go of them but knowing he has to.

Then, before either of his men can say anything else, ask him any questions, he takes the lift back out of the brig and up to the command center level. Krell is waiting for him with a message paused on the holodisplay. “The Umbarans are gaining ground,” Krell says shortly, not waiting for Rex’s salute (which is good, because it isn’t coming). “The Umbarans seem to be preparing for another attack and they’re taking armor and weapons from dead clones. I’m ordering a preemptive strike, immediately, while we have an advantage. We will march on the capital _now_.”

It’s still a ludicrous plan, but if they’re under threat of attack, it makes sense. Rex makes himself set his anger aside enough to nod. “Yes sir.”

“I want your troops ready to move out in half an hour. Make sure they are all aware that the enemy may try to disguise themselves as clones, since they have our armor and weapons.”

Rex agrees. For now he’ll put the mission above his hatred of the general - there will be time to deal with that later. He leaves Krell in the command center and goes to prepare his men. They have to make this work as well as they can. General Kenobi and the Republic are counting on them.

…

The Umbaran darkness is as heavy as ever, making their footsteps sound louder than they are. In a way, it’s still better than the airbase, which has begun to feel less like a shelter and more like a prison. Fighting is one thing Rex can do and do well, without having to worry about whether it’s _right_ or not - he knows these Umbarans are the enemy and he knows that the Republic needs them to win. They’re trying to be quiet, move with more purpose, because maybe they can make it farther in the assault if they’re not seen.

Then a blaster bolt streaks out of the darkness, bright blue and deadly. Rex automatically drops to a crouch, bringing up his blaster pistols and watching for the shooter. He briefly spots a domed helmet and he _burns_ \- that armor’s been taken from the body of one of his brothers.

“They’re wearing our armor alright!” someone shouts, just before the darkness erupts in blue streaks of energy and the beginnings of screams. Rex takes aim and fires without needing to think, adrenaline coursing through his veins fast and anxious. He has to win, has to protect his men.

It’s chaos - he can barely tell who’s friend or foe because all that distinguishes the Umbarans from his men is the orange on their armor. The landscape is a blur of pale, armored figures and blue blaster bolts, but he knows what he’s doing - he doesn’t waste a shot, doesn’t hesitate. His men follow his lead and he spares a second to be proud and afraid because however many Umbarans as they kill, he seems to lose just as many men.

The enemy is trying to flank them, and he rolls away from a shot and runs through a small thicket of the phosphorescent grasses, firing behind him. He drops two of his attackers, but then stumbles to a halt at the sight of a jumble of bodies. They’re the enemy but his instincts tell him something is _off_ and he doesn’t have _time_ for this but he gets closer, trying to figure out _why,_ and he realizes it’s one of the bodies. The Umbarans are pale, sickly so, and gaunt, but one of the corpses has half-lost its helmet and he’s not looking at an Umbaran, he knows it. He walks over to the body, suddenly feeling _frozen_ , and bends down, easing the helmet the rest of the way off the all-too-familiar face.

It’s a clone, eyes rolled back in his head, and Rex knows what it means and begins moving even though part of him is _screaming_ that he can’t accept this. He’s running back the way he came even before he knows what he’s going to do, feet slipping in the damp earth, and he grabs the nearest soldier (one of his) and grabs the blaster out of his hands. “They’re _clones_ !” he yells and he can’t be _loud enough_ , can’t tell them all _fast enough_ . He rips his own helmet off, sprints to another group of his own men. “Helmets off, now. They’re clones!” Ice thrills down his spine, cold dread and horror, and it's hard to _think_.

And then he turns and runs toward a trooper in orange armor who’s aiming a blaster at one of his men and tackles him, trapping him in a headlock and yanking his helmet off, standing up, making his prisoner face his men because they have to _see_ , they have to stop. “Stop firing!” he roars, and he wants to beg them. Please look, please see, please stop. “They're clones!”

The clones behind him, the ones they’d thought were their enemy, see what he’s doing and he hears a ripple of sound beginning in the dark field as the sound of blasters dissipates. The troopers are all taking off their helmets and Rex can hear the _murmurs,_ the horrified whispers. And the moans of injured and dying men. He lets go of the trooper he’s holding, almost drops his own helmet because his hands are shaking violently.

Why would the 212th attack them? How could this have _happened?_

His brothers are walking among the dead like they want to be sure of what they’ve done, but he sinks to his knees in the dirt and drops his head, into his trembling hands, forces himself to _breathe_ because his heart is pounding too fast and he can’t get a real breath, can’t _think_ . He feels again every shot he took, sees the soldiers falling, knows he has murdered his own _brothers_ . The darkness feels as though it's laughing at him, spiteful and harsh and mocking, exulting in his loss. Next to him a soldier from the 212th lies facing the sky, a hole in his chest armor right over his heart, and Rex feels _sick_. He can hear some of his men crying and some swearing brokenly and it’s an unfamiliar sound, not right, and he wants to close his eyes and plug his ears and shut out this horror.

But he is their Captain, so instead he pushes himself to his feet and looks around to find a way to help. He assesses bodies, calls men over to help him, names the dead. That’s when Tup comes up to him, a tear tracing down his cheek over his tattoo. “We found their platoon leader, Captain.”

Rex nods, doesn’t address the way Tup’s voice is _shaking_.

“It’s Waxer, sir. He’s still alive.”

Rex’s stomach clenches at the word _still_ , but he follows Tup to where Kix and several others hover around Waxer, whose breath is rattling and labored. He gets to one knee by Waxer, holding his pained gaze, hoping for answers.

“Waxer…” And he’s afraid to ask, but he _has_ to, has to know. “Tell me who gave you the orders to attack us.”

Waxer’s struggling to breathe and he looks as horrified as Rex feels. “It was… was General Krell.” Rex’s heart seizes. _Please,_ he thinks, although no one is listening. _No more of this._ “He sent us to these coordinates to stop the enemy, and we thought… we thought they were wearing our armor.” Rex’s throat aches and he wants to shake his head. Waxer coughs and Rex knows he’s blaming himself. “But it was… you.” He’s shaking and a single tear spills past his lashes, and then it’s like he’s simply lost the strength to breathe, because his eyes close, his head falls to his chest, and instead of the sounds of his gasping breaths there’s only echoing silence. Rex stares at him for a moment, then he stands, and the anger is back, all fire and ice and loss. The dead littering this field are his brothers, every single one of them.

Krell is a traitor, a murderer, and finally Rex knows what to do, as clearly as if he’s been given orders. These are his men, not Krell’s, and he _will_ protect them and protect the Republic they’re honorbound to serve - even if it’s treason.

He gathers both battalions together, the 501st and the 212th, and it hurts how few of them are left. Still, they fall into even lines and await what he has to say because that’s what they _do_. He stands in front of them, hands clasped behind his back, and tells them the truth because they deserve that.

“From this point forward, we are entering uncharted territory,” and he should feel terrified but he just feels _purpose_. “My orders are, we arrest General Krell for treason against the Republic.” He sees his troops respond with expressions of resolve, squared shoulders, eyes that burn with the same anger he feels deep in his bones.

He holds his fate and that of his men tightly in his hands and perhaps for the first time ever, he knows the full weight and breadth of leadership.

He won’t fail them again.

~~~

It takes exactly _too long_ for Chancellor Palpatine to let Anakin go, even after he explains that an emergency has come up and his Padawan needs his help. He doesn’t bother telling the Council, leaves a message with Threepio for Padme, and jumps into his A-wing. There’s a few hyperspace engine rings near the jump point for multiple hyperlanes, including the one that will take him back to Umbara; Artoo hooks the ship into the engine ring, calculates the jump, and inputs the coordinates.

Anakin hits the lever, sending the A-wing into hyperspace, and grabs his ‘saber hilt in both hands. (He wishes, briefly, that he could’ve taken a bigger ship, if only because it would’ve given him room to pace.) He doesn’t think he’s ever been this angry in his _life,_ even when he’d watched Padme flirting with that _sleemo_ Clovis.

Pong Krell tried to _invade Ahsoka’s mind._

The implications of that--as well as the Darkness he’d felt, and Ahsoka had confirmed--haven’t quite set in yet, other than the fact that _that laserbrained Hutt-spawn_ is _not_ fit to be commanding _his men_ or even breathing in the same _room_ as his Padawan. Nor is he fit to be a _Jedi,_ honestly--no Jedi would _ever_ Force their way into someone’s mind!

He never should’ve left Umbara.

He should’ve killed Krell when the sleemo first showed up.

Should’ve, but didn’t; now, he’ll get a chance to rectify that mistake. He will _never_ let somebody else command his men again. Council be kriffed, he _can’t,_ not after what this has _done,_ and hopefully they’ll understand, but even if they don’t he’s not changing his mind. They _can’t_ take his men away from him.

Never again.

The fact that Krell would’ve literally _raped_ Ahsoka’s _mind_ had she not called to him in enough time for him to shield her makes Anakin see red, but the hatred is tinged with no small helping of fear. His Force-suggestion that sent her to sleep only worked because of how exhausted and _vulnerable_ she was at the moment, and it won’t last long--certainly not long enough to even _begin_ to repair the damage Krell has done to her shields. He’ll have to take time to help her fix them, after this karking planet is dealt with.

“Just hang on, Snips,” he murmurs to himself, watching the blue of hyperspace streak by. He hopes, even though he knows it’s probably a fool’s hope, that she’ll be able to stay out of Krell’s way, assuming she wakes up before he gets there. “Hang on.”

~~~

Ahsoka wakes slowly, the pain in her body a distant, forgotten thing compared to the exhausted ache in her head. Her shields are in tatters, worse then they've ever been before, but right now she doesn't really have the ability to rebuild them.

Someone's coming. She can feel their presence like a storm on the horizon, heavy with anger and guilt and _agony_ so intense she can hardly breathe. She sits up, slow and careful, noticing with a vague, distant interest that she's on the pitiful _bunk_ the cell boasts. But that doesn't matter right now, and so she discards if, paying attention to the lift.

It lowers down to her level after a moment, and she's not really surprised to see Rex, alone, his helmet tucked under his arm. His face is set, but his eyes are alight with rage.

“What _happened?”_ she asks, drawing his attention to her; he looks surprised and _relieved_ to see her awake.

“Krell set us and the 212th against each other,” he says, short and straight to the point. “I'm arresting him for treason.” Fives and Jesse whoop, and he takes a deep breath, his face changing slightly. “What happened to you, Ahsoka?”

“I refused to tell Krell where my lightsabers were, so he Forced his way into my mind.” At his look of utter horror, she adds, “Don't worry--he didn't see anything. Master protected me. He's on his way here, actually.”

“Good,” Rex says. “General Skywalker is our only chance of not getting court-martialed for this.” He straightens, puts his shoulders back, and unlocks the cells one at a time.

“These are yours, Commander,” Fives says, offering out her sabers; she leaves the cell, takes them from his extended hand, hooks them on her belt with a sigh of relief. “Are you sure you're okay? You _screamed.”_

Ahsoka nods. “Master put me to sleep. It helped. My shields are--not good, but I'll be fine for this, and you need my help.” She steps onto the lift platform.

~~~

Whether Ahsoka is actually at all okay to fight is highly doubtful, but Rex doesn't argue the point. He gives Fives and Jesse back their blasters and armor and fits on his own helmet on. Ahsoka comes and stands at his shoulder, and he's grimly thankful she's watching his back. His plan is as good as he can manage and it might not be good enough anyway; it’s him and his men and Ahsoka (who’s powerful but also wounded and a Padawan) against a Jedi Master with two double-bladed sabers.

But arresting him is their duty - and their best option. The 501st and the 212th weren’t meant to make it out of that battle and Rex has no idea how Krell will react to seeing them, to their accusations.

He does know by now that Krell won’t go quietly. Part of him is fiercely exultant at the prospect of a fight, of getting to _finally_ face Krell and make him pay for everything he’s done to them since he took over their battalion.

A larger part of him knows they are incredibly outmatched. But his men are waiting for him anyway, ready to stand with him even though they all know full well what a Jedi can do, know it’s a massive risk.

The lift takes them up to the barracks, where the battalions are waiting with their helmets on. They salute, to Ahsoka and Fives and Jesse more than him, he thinks. Rex nods to them. “This is your last chance to bow out. I will understand if you do.” And he will. They are soldiers - the command structure is as much a part of their lives as anything else, and they could still be punished for this.

But no one moves, and he’s a little stunned by it, by the way they all stay where they are and wait for what he has to say. He doesn’t know how he’s earned this much trust from them, but it steels his resolve.

“I want a squad outside in front of the tower,” he says, because although he hopes they can subdue Krell in the command center, he’s not going to count it as a sure thing. “You have to be ready in case he escapes us. I only want volunteers in the command center with us.” That will be the biggest risk, trapped in a small space with Krell and his sabers.

Tup, Fives, and Jesse line up next to him, and half of the 501st isn’t far behind. Rex shakes his head at Kix when he tries to join them - they need their field medic well out of the way of the initial danger.

~~~

Ahsoka glances at Rex; he nods once, and she sends the lift up to the command center. Rex leads the way, with her a pace behind and to his right, covering his blind spot (an ironic reversal of the last time the two of them had come here), her ‘sabers off but firmly in her hands.

The door to the command center hisses open.

Krell is standing at the far end of the darkened room, all four hands behind his back, and he doesn’t turn around or even _react_ when they enter. Multiple troopers, Fives and Jesse included, circle around the Jedi Master, and Rex steps forward and says, simply, coldly (the coldest she’s _ever_ heard him), “General Krell, you’re _relieved of duty.”_

“So, it’s treason, then,” Krell muses, turning slowly to face them. “Padawan Tano, you _will_ be expelled from the Order for this.”

“Not if my Master has anything to say about it,” she says, and draws herself up. “Pong Krell, you are _under arrest_ for treason, for using the Dark Side of the Force, and for _breaking the Jedi Code.”_

“You have no proof,” the besalisk says mildly. “Who would believe _you,_ a mere Padawan?”

“You _ripped my shields to shreds!”_ Ahsoka shouts, preparing to spring forward. “You tried to invade my mind! I don’t _need_ any more proof!”

“Explain your actions, sir,” Rex says, bringing his blasters up. “You ordered your men to attack each other.”

(She wonders if Krell can hear the guilt and pain in Rex’s voice the way she can. She thinks probably not--Krell doesn’t care enough to learn the troopers the way she and Anakin have.)

“I’m surprised you figured that out, _for a clone.”_ Krell’s voice practically _drips_ condescension. “You are committing mutiny, Captain.”

“No,” Rex says, closing the circle around the general with a hand signal, “I’m doing the right thing,” and he glances over at Ahsoka, sending a rush of warmth through her.

Krell _moves,_ then, snarls out, “You _dare_ challenge a _Jedi?”_ and _pushes,_ sending a circle of raw Force out from him, flinging the troopers to the floor. Ahsoka senses it coming just in time to counter with her own Force-push; she skids back a few meters, but holds her own, staying balanced.

“You’re no Jedi,” she snarls, and ignites her ‘sabers, settling into a combat stance. “And you’ve hurt enough of _my men.”_

“So be it,” Krell says, and ignites his double-bladed lightsabers, spinning them around (reminds her of Grievous, in a way, although far more refined), and attacks--but not her.

No, his targets are her troopers, and he cuts through three of them before she has time to react. She launches herself forward, landing in between him and a pair of troopers struggling to their feet, catches two of his ‘sabers on hers, jumps up and kicks him in the chest, somersaulting away and landing poised on the balls of her feet. “My Master met a Sith when he was nine years old,” she starts, circling to Krell’s left, testing him, “and Master Obi-Wan _killed_ that Sith Lord when he was still a Padawan. You’re nowhere _near_ as impressive as that.”

Krell roars and _lunges,_ and she meets his charge, baring her teeth and parrying his strikes. He’s _good,_ that’s true, and she’s never fought against someone with a pair of lightstaves before (well, except that one time she’d distracted Grievous, but that hardly counts), but she’s _faster_ and as long as she avoids closing with him, she has a chance.

A few rounds of blasterfire soar from the shadows at the edge of the circular room; Krell deflects the bolts, sending a few of them back into the clones who’d shot them, and aiming no small amount of them at _her._ She avoids them--most of them, deflects the bolts she can’t duck, but that pulls her concentration away from Krell’s saber blades and she’s nearly skewered by the green lightstaff before she manages to flip away (nearly landing on top of Fives, who leaps backwards before he can trip her up).

“Don’t shoot unless you have a clear shot,” Rex shouts, and Ahsoka feels a wave of relief that he’s still alive, not one of the troopers who’ve been cut in half or shot by their own blasterfire.

She takes a deep breath, disengages for a moment, backing away, her ribs _screaming_ and her head aching and with her shields almost nonexistent she’s constantly battered by waves of emotion, of pain and rage and fear and _Darkness_ and it’s almost too _much,_ she’s already pushed her body and mind beyond every limit she’s ever had and she’s still demanding more, and if this doesn’t kill her Anakin certainly _will._ She’s shaking, her muscles starting to cramp and seize up, but her ‘sabers are steady and she _refuses_ to back down.

Krell smirks, projecting another burst of Dark so strong she’s sure even the troopers can feel it. “Having trouble, little one?”

She feels her face contort into a feral snarl and she launches forward again, a renewed wave of energy born from anger powering her, and she pulls on the Force for speed and strength and, using her small size to get under Krell’s guard, far closer than she’s let herself get before now, she brings her ‘sabers up and slices the hilt of his green lightstaff in half. Krell growls, drives a Force-augmented kick into her already bruised and cracked ribs in response, throwing her halfway across the room (the impact knocks the breath from her lungs and sends her ‘saber hilts flying, the blades shutting off), but it’s a victory--

But a minor one.

Krell turns and leaps out the window, where he’ll land in the midst of the squadron Rex had stationed to guard the exit from the tower, and Ahsoka swears breathlessly. “Ow,” she mutters, blinking spots from her eyes, and she Force-pulls her ‘sabers back to her hands.

“Ahsoka!” Rex is kneeling beside her, his helmet off and his blaster pistols discarded on the ground next to him. “Are you alright? Hold still, ‘Soka, I’ll have Kix--”

She smiles up at him, although it’s probably more of a grimace, and slowly sits up, putting a hand on his shoulder. “I’m fine, Rexter, don’t worry. I’ve got to finish this.”

“Are you sure?”

In answer, Ahsoka uses his shoulder to push herself upright. The world spins, and she takes several careful, slow breaths (trying not to wince when the simple motion of breathing sends agony through her abused ribs). “Yeah,” she says, only it sounds more like a thready whisper, like she’s been punched in the gut, because she can’t seem to get enough air to her lungs, “I think-- _ugh--_ I think I’ll be okay. I _have_ to be.” She nods to herself. “Get your men down there,” she orders.

“What about you?”

She grins through the pain. “I’m taking a shortcut.”

And then she turns, ignites her ‘sabers, and leaps through the window after Krell.

~~~

Rex takes longer than he should to recover from Krell’s Force-push; he hits his head on the floor and even with his helmet he’s dazed for a moment. But staying still is _dying_ so he shoves himself upright, shaking his head, raising his blasters long before he’s even oriented himself again.

For a moment the sabers are just a blur and he can’t tell where Krell’s attacks end and Ahsoka’s begin, but Ahsoka’s taunting Krell and that helps him focus in on her until he can follow the pattern of their fight. Then a blaster bolt shrieks by his head and he realizes his men are shooting at Krell and he wants to join, but Krell’s sabers don’t let a single shot near him and he’s deflecting them back at Rex and his men and Ahsoka - and as he notices it Ahsoka’s concentration shifts to deflecting one of the bolts with her own saber and Rex doesn’t even have time to _shout_ before Krell lunges forward with his saber, nearly driving it home into her stomach. But Ahsoka leaps backward out of the way and Rex roars at his men _not to fire_ because Ahsoka doesn’t need to be fending off blasterfire and Krell’s sabers at the same time.

He can’t stand the inaction, he and his troops reduced to pacing around the perimeter of the room looking for a shot, for an opening, for some way to help. The hum of Krell’s sabers is deafening and although Rex waits, keeps his blasters up, there’s never a moment when Krell is totally unguarded. There’s a brief pause when Ahsoka draws back, assessing, and Rex’s instincts scream _something is not right_ and his very breath is heavy when Krell says, “Having trouble, little one?”

But he knows (and soon Krell knows) that that was a mistake because Ahsoka rushes in under his guard and Rex is momentarily _proud_ because that’s exactly what she needed to do, and then Krell’s green saber winks out and he _snarls_ and kicks Ahsoka so hard she’s thrown off her feet and skids to a stop on the floor, her sabers out of her hands. Rex fires fast, and his troops follow suit, because he expects Krell to press his advantage and he could _kill her_ but instead the general turns and sprints to the window, crashing through it out into the dark. Rex hopes against hope that his squad outside can slow him down long enough that they can still catch him.

He runs over to Ahsoka and tugs his helmet off, dropping to his knees because he has to make sure she's okay before they can worry about Krell. She's blinking and heaving for breath but she extends her hands and her sabers whip across the room, smacking into her grip. It's like it's a monumental effort, though, because her arms drop almost bonelessly and her eyelids slide shut for long enough that Rex’s stomach constricts because her ribs were already in poor shape and she still has a concussion and she's in no condition to be getting thrown across rooms. “Ahsoka! Are you alright?” She opens her eyes and seems about to try to sit up, and Rex waves Kix over with one hand. She shouldn't move until Kix looks at her. “Hold still, Soka, I'll have Kix-” She reaches up, puts her hand on his shoulder, and he already _knows_ what she's going to say as she tries for something like a smile and goes to _sit up_. “I’m fine, Rexter, don’t worry. I’ve got to finish this.”

And he wants to tell her she can’t because he knows from experience that even breathing must hurt and he needs her help, but not if she’s going to kill herself trying. He grabs her arm because she’s mostly sitting up under her own strength and she shouldn’t be; Kix comes over and gives Rex a _look_ , as if to say _don’t you dare let her._ And technically he could force her to stay here with Kix, if he tried, but he doesn't want to force her to do anything. “Are you sure?” he says, trying to put all his uncertainty and his wish that she'd _stay put_ into his words.

But she clearly doesn't pick up on it or else isn't swayed because she suddenly grips his pauldron and pulls her feet under her, steadying her weight on his shoulder and he almost swears because she shouldn't just _stand up_ like that. Kix does swear softly, under his breath. “Yeah,” Ahsoka says. Liar. She sounds terribly exhausted. “I think” and she groans shortly, eyes pinching shut, and Rex gets to his own feet, “I think I'll be okay. I _have_ to be.” She gives him a look, a sharp, commanding one. “Get your men down there,” she says, and he bends to pick up his helmet and blasters. Krell has probably gotten a dangerous head start on them, unless his men managed to take him down alone.

“What about you?” he says, and he doesn't like the sudden glint in her eyes and the way she lets go of his shoulder, swaying a minute. Then she _grins_ and he knows her well enough to be _horrified_ just before she says, “I'm taking a shortcut,” and runs to the shattered window.

“Kriffing hell!” and he launches himself after her, but he's not quite fast enough and she's flung herself out the window before he can do anything about it.

So he turns and sprints for the lift, his men falling in behind him automatically. “I could have told you she'd do that,” Kix snaps, and Rex can tell the medic is _furious_.

“I know, I know. It's too late though.” Rex puts his helmet back on as they take the lift down, wishing it would be faster. When they arrive on the ground floor and rush outside, Rex can't help but stumble to a halt, sickened.

He's seen the damage a saber can do before, of course: the twisted, melted remains of battle droids, holes sliced in blast doors, tanks disabled, whole battalions of the enemy cut down by one dedicated Jedi.

He hasn't seen what they can do to his own men. It hasn't been long - moments, really, and there are _dozens_ of dead troopers on the ground, helmets sliced through and smoldering, blackened stab wounds in chests, stomachs, heads. Someone (he thinks his name is Decker) has lost his helmet, and a wide wound burns its way across his face and through one eye. Some troopers lay gasping, their limbs no more than blackened stumps. It's the work of someone who doesn't care how much pain he causes as long as he gets what he wants. Rex has to force down the urge to be sick.

He sees some of his own men and Ahsoka running out of the airbase into the Umbaran forests, presumably after Krell, and he makes himself run again, past bodies cut down carelessly, violently, men still groaning and crying. Without a word, Kix peels off from the group to help someone and Rex tightens his grip on his blasters.

They find Ahsoka and the troopers in a clearing, and Krell is… gone. Rex comes up behind Ahsoka, looking around. “Where…?”

“I don't know,” Ahsoka sounds a little scared, and even Rex can feel why: tension is palpable among the men. Venturing out into the thick undergrowth would be too dangerous, but waiting for Krell to reveal himself isn't ideal either.

Then Krell's voice echoes out of the dark, seemingly from all sides, horribly amused. “Look at you all, so scared and _weak._ This could all have been avoided if you'd listened to the ARC trooper from the beginning, Captain,” he mocks, and Rex tries as hard as he can to narrow in on the sound.

“Where is he?” he asks Ahsoka softly.

“I don't know,” she says. “It _all_ feels Dark.”

“You've all been fools,” Krell chuckles, and Rex hears Fives swear loudly. “Even you, Padawan Tano.”

And the besalisk drops out of the thin trees at the edge of the clearing, crushing a trooper under his boots and slamming his saber into another. Rex can't take his eyes off the glowing weapon, and his gut reaction says he should run, put as much distance between himself and those twin blades as he can. Instead, he raises his blaster and shoots even as Krell cuts down two more of his men and Ahsoka raises her sabers to dive back into the battle.

~~~

Ahsoka can hardly breathe.

She’s _winded,_ for one, after an intense duel and sprinting through a forest, and every shallow breath sends sheer agony stabbing through her ribs like there’s multiple knives being thrust into her with every inhale. Her head _throbs,_ and she’s getting dizzy again, and the darkness seems to be pressing in on her, smothering her, the only clear things the twin blue blades and Krell’s glowing golden eyes.

But she has to stop this. Now.

So she rushes forward, sabers up, and, snarling, engages Krell once again. She blocks and parries, made much easier by the fact that his other lightstaff is gone, letting out a shout of pain when one of his free arms slams into her ribs once again--he knows her weak spot.

She thinks Rex might’ve said something, but she can't hear over her racing heart and labored breathing; whatever he says _(Soka,_ **_please)_ ** , she ignores him, throws herself at Krell again, ducks under a slash (she has to end this _now,_ before she falls over), gets under his guard (he's not used to only having one lightstaff), and--

Slices both of his right arms off at the elbow.

Krell _screams,_ and in that moment _someone_ takes a shot, blaster set to stun; Krell collapses, unconscious.

Ahsoka has time to grin and return her sabers to her belt before a wave of pain and dizziness rolls over her and her knees buckle.

~~~

When Krell falls, Rex’s heart pounds fast, relief and exuberance making him feel shaky and oddly light. Krell crashes to the ground and he can tell Ahsoka is smiling, but she's swaying on her feet and when she goes to clip her sabers back to her belt, she fumbles with them. Rex’s heart leaps into his throat because in the chaos has he missed something, an injury or an attack? He dashes across the clearing, getting there just as Ahsoka starts to stagger, clearly trying not to fall. He grabs her shoulders, running his eyes over her form, looking for any new injuries. He doesn't see any, and he's so relieved that he pulls Ahsoka gently against his chest. _(He tells himself it's so she doesn't collapse but it's a flimsy excuse at best.)_ She mumbles something slurred that he can't make out, seems to want to pull away for a minute, but then she goes still, sagging in his arms, and Rex carefully scoops her up into his arms, cradling her head against his shoulder.

“Get Krell,” he growls at his men (and ignores Fives’ smirk). Tup brings him Krell’s heavy saber hilt, and Rex takes it with one hand, clumsily hangs it on his belt. He doesn’t want to touch it, almost - he feels like it must be tainted from all the brothers it has killed, all the Darkness of its owner.

He leads his men (the few that are left) back to the airbase, Ahsoka heavy in his arms, weariness growing with every step. Kix meets him with several others at the entrance, and he looks at Ahsoka and back up at Rex’s face, eyes sharp with a question.

“She’s alive,” Rex says, and it’s a relief to remind himself that that’s true, that the Jedi he carries is still breathing.

“Give her to me, I’ll take her to the med bay,” Kix says, and Rex shakes his head without thinking.

“No, I’ll take her. There are men back the way we came, I want you to take six troopers and go find anyone who’s alive and bring them back here.”

Kix salutes, and Rex turns around to address the soldiers behind him. “Take Krell to the brig. Take his comms and search him for weapons and put him in a cell.” He makes himself soften his voice. “Then you all deserve to rest.” He will interrogate Krell later, and when Anakin gets here they will work all this out and decide about attacking the capital. But for now everything is _over_ , for now Krell is locked up and Rex doesn’t have to worry about what the general will do to his men next.

“Captain?” It’s Fives, and he salutes, his eyes grateful. Rex nods.

“Yes?”

Fives hesitates, but then says, “We’re lucky to have you as our Captain, sir.”

Rex’s throat closes off a little, and he manages to get out a “thank you” before suddenly all his men salute, and those without helmets are smiling at him like he’s something amazing.

“You should rest too,” Fives says, lips curling into a smug smile, “Spend some time with your Jedi.”

Rex will not dignify that remark with a response just now (or ever). “Go get some sleep, Fives,” he grumbles, turning back around, his throat still oddly tight.

He walks back through the airbase landing pad, into the command tower, takes the lift up to the floor that Kix had designated his med bay from the beginning. There are maybe ten new patients from tonight, besides all the wounded from their other attacks. Rex carries Ahsoka to an open bunk that’s more out of the way, in a corner, and carefully, carefully sets her down. He steps away a moment to get a blanket from a drawer, and when he comes back, Ahsoka is awake again. He pulls the blanket over her, forcing a smile. She grabs his hand with worryingly weak fingers, eyes wide with concern. “Rex,” she says. “Krell?”

“It’s _fine_ ,” he says. “We have him. You need to rest.” He starts to go, because they have to interrogate Krell and he has to make sure Kix and the others get the wounded back safely. But Ahsoka’s hand tightens around his, and he stops, can’t make himself break away.

“Please don’t go.”

~~~

“Please don’t go,” Ahsoka murmurs, clutching Rex’s hand with all the strength she has, tugging him back towards the bunk. She’s under no illusions: she doesn’t have anywhere near the strength to _force_ him to move right now, or even shift his balance. But he comes back anyway, something shifting in his eyes, softening, almost.

“I should help--”

“Rex,” she says, a bit stronger, her lips curling into a small smile, “you’re no use to anybody dead from sleep deprivation.”

He huffs out a bit of a chuckle. “I guess you’re right,” and he hesitates before gently breaking her hold on his hand and beginning to divest himself of his armor a piece at a time. “But I can’t stay for long. I have to interrogate Krell, and--”

“Rex,” she says again, her smile widening.

“Yes, ‘Soka?”

“I’m glad you’re not dead,” she says, and then shifts back, patting the bunk. “Sit down. I promise they can manage without you for a little bit.”

He makes a face at her, though the faint sparkle in his eyes shows he’s not serious. “I don’t seem to have a choice, do I?”

“Nope,” she agrees, trying to push herself up on one elbow--

Rex reaches out and places one bare hand on her chest, gently pushing her back down. “No.”

She glares, but she’s laughably weak and even one-handed and barely putting any pressure he easily forces her back down. “But--”

“I’ll stay for a while, but only if you _stay down,”_ he says, emphasizing the last two words with another light push. He picks his hand up to finish pulling his armor off, and then he sits down on the edge of the bunk, shifting so that his back is against the wall behind her head and his legs are stretched out next to her. “Alright?”

“Fine,” she murmurs, and reaches for his hand. Her shields are still down, and there’s darkness all around her--this kriffing _world_ seems to be steeped in it--but Rex is _warm_ and bright and his emotions flood her as she laces her fingers through his, curling up and bringing their hands to rest by her face. “You feel happy,” and she closes her eyes and leans her forehead into his hand. “‘S nice, after Krell.”

There’s a surge of anger, quickly stifled, morphing into--awe, and more warmth, and it feels like she’s floating in a sea of light. “How?” she breathes, exhaustion dragging her voice to a stop one word into the question.

“Go to sleep, Ahsoka,” he says, softly, almost--tenderly? She knows she’s not imagining the gentle brush of fingers against the white markings on her cheek, down her headtail _,_ and she shivers.

His steady presence is soothing, and with Krell taken care of and Rex next to her, she _finally_ feels _safe,_ even with her shields almost gone, even without her Master here. Her body and mind both relax towards unconsciousness and the deep healing sleep she so desperately needs, and as the welcome blackness overtakes her she thinks she hears him say, so quietly she’s not sure he’s actually speaking, “It’s not me, ‘Soka, it’s you,” (and a rough, raw chuckle) “my Jedi indeed.”

And then she knows no more.

~~~

He doesn't know how he dares to trace his fingers over her cheekbone, but he does anyway, sees her smile a little. “Go to sleep, Ahsoka,” he says quietly, tracing one of the bands of color on her headtail before pulling his hand back. She's drifting, he can tell, because she nestles further into the blanket he gave her and she hums a little.

“How,” she'd begun to ask, and he knows what she means: how does he feel _happy_ ? And he wonders that she even has to ask. Could she feel why he was happy, does she know? Part of him hopes she does. “It's not me, Soka, it's you.” He's scared and tired but she makes him feel _safe_. He thinks of Fives and shakes his head, annoyance and wry amusement forcing their way out in a laugh. “My Jedi indeed.” For now, at least.

Rex brushes his thumb over the backs of her knuckles in a slow, soft rhythm. It should feel like he’s daring too much, hoping too much, but with Krell in the brig and this base under his control, instead it just feels _right_.

He lets his head thunk lightly back against the wall, stares across the room and it’s the first time he’s just _rested_ since he came here, since long before that. He _knows_ his men are safe, and Ahsoka’s right here so he knows nothing can happen to her, and it’s security and safety and also, maybe, comfort.

She shifts a little in her sleep and her fingers tighten around his, her face softening into a smile, and it’s a little surreal but he squeezes her hand and smiles at her - never mind that she can’t see him. For now he thinks maybe she’ll be okay, maybe they both will, maybe… maybe they can stay like this. _(And he knows he’s probably just high on his victory and adrenaline, knows it’s ridiculous to dream, but he does anyway.)_ Sighing, he closes his own eyes. Just for a minute, he’ll stay and try to rest too. Just a little bit.

The last thing he’s aware of before sleep claims him is Soka curling up closer to him, tugging his hand to rest against her cheek. He can almost hear her laughing at him, _Go to sleep, Rex._ So he does.

…

Kix should really focus on his job, which is getting the wounded into their bunks and settling them down. But about half of them have also noticed what he has, which is that Captain Rex is slumped against the wall on a bunk, Commander Tano curled up against his leg, and they’re _holding hands_. Kriffing Fives was right.

“Are you serious?” Tup grumbles behind him. “They couldn’t have waited a few more missions?” Tup and Fives have been adjusting their bets on the Captain and the Commander since the betting pool started and everyone has thought they were crazy - Kix included. Their Captain is stubborn. Or in this case, maybe not so much.

“General Skywalker still beats everyone,” one of his patients says, half-bitterly, half amused. Kix snorts and waves insistently for the troopers to get back to what they’re supposed to be doing. He has people to heal (Commander Tano included) and he doesn’t have time to notice that his Captain looks much happier than he’s looked in ages. (He also doesn’t notice that Commander Tano snores.)

~~~

Anakin lands the A-wing next to the one that must be Ahsoka’s, vaulting out and running for the control tower as fast as he can. The place looks like a grave, dead troopers (most in 501st blue, some in 212th orange, _what the kriffing hell happened here?)_ everywhere he looks, the distinctive burn of a lightsaber in every one. Ahsoka never would--which means Krell did, and he is _going_ to _murder_ that bastard.

He storms into the control tower, takes the lift up to the level he can feel his Padawan on, strides out--only to nearly smack into Fives, who has a grin the size of Coruscant on his face.

“General Skywalker! I have good news!”

Anakin raises an eyebrow when the ARC trooper stops. “Which is?”

“You won the bet.”

The bet? “Which bet?” he asks, confused. “The one where Obi-Wan finally gets his head out of his Code and tells his girlfriend how he feels? Or the one where you and Tup get together-- _shavit,_ I wasn’t supposed to tell you about that one, uh--”

Fives turns _bright_ red, clears his throat, and says, “The Captain and the Commander. Sir.”

Anakin’s jaw drops.

“No way,” he says. “Rex would never--I won’t believe it until I see it.”

The trooper grins, though he still looks embarrassed. “Fortunately for _you,_ unfortunately for my meager supply of credits, I can prove it.”

Anakin follows Fives into the medbay, half-grinning, unwilling to believe it--Rex would _never_ let go of his strict emotional control to even _realize_ what he feels (even though literally the _entire_ battalion can see it), and Ahsoka, he’s pretty sure, hasn’t even noticed. Sure, he’d bet on it, because it’s _obvious,_ but… he really hadn’t expected them to figure anything out this mission. He really hadn’t.

“Tada,” Fives says quietly, ushering him into the medbay and gesturing at a bunk off in one corner.

“I’ll be damned,” Anakin murmurs, staring at his Captain, sitting on the bunk and leaning against the wall, sound asleep. With his hand firmly clutched in Ahsoka’s and tucked beneath her cheek. “You owe me a hundred credits. Where’s Jesse? He owes me _two hundred.”_

And he’s not blind; he _knows_ his men are looking for a reason to laugh, to be happy, in the face of all this carnage. He can _feel_ the way his very presence in the room relaxes them all, can see it in their widening smiles, the spark returning to their eyes, even the wounded men starting to grin and cheer before Kix hushes them. “If you wake the Captain and the Commander I’ll shoot you,” the medic threatens, only half-serious, “Do you have any idea how _long_ it’s taken me to get either of them to sleep?” He turns to Anakin, irritation plain across his face (mixed with a healthy dose of worry). “Sir, Commander Tano had four broken ribs, and she _jumped out a window!”_

Anakin shrugs and grins. “What can I say, Kix? Like Master, like Padawan.” He pauses, frowns a little. “Wait, she jumped out a window? _Wizard.”_

As laughter spreads through the ranks of injured soldiers, Anakin feels a weight lift from his shoulders, his smile broadening; there’s still darkness on Umbara, but the shadow is passing. Dawn is coming.

~~~

Rex wakes up on his own, slowly and almost… luxuriously. He stretches a little, sighs, and regrets falling asleep leaning against a wall. Ahsoka is still asleep, her breath wheezing in soft snores, and Rex realizes his hand has gone slightly numb because it’s tucked under her head. He smiles a little to himself and eases his hand out of hers and, reluctantly, climbs off the bunk.

He also avoids looking at Kix, who is working very diligently on a trooper who has apparently lost an arm. “I guess it’s no use telling you to go back to sleep,” Kix says dryly, not looking up.

“None,” Rex says. He still has his responsibilities, still has to question Krell and confer with his men.

Kix sighs and shakes his head, glancing up briefly. “Fine. General Skywalker is here - I think he'll want to talk to you.”

“Right.” Rex goes back to the bunk and retrieves his armor, strapping it quickly back on and holstering his blasters. He leaves his helmet off though, because he already feels wearier again with the armor on. Still, the prospect of seeing General Skywalker again is a relief.

And yet he still feels like this is his base and the troopers are his men as he walks through the halls. Someone tells him General Skywalker is in the command center and Rex doesn't really want to go back there, but he does.

The General, Fives, Jesse, ad Sergeant Appo are waiting for him. General Skywalker turns as he enters, face breaking into a smile, although Rex knows him well enough to know he's _angry_. “Captain Rex,” he says. “It's good to see you in one piece.”

“You as well, General,” Rex says.

“I wasn't in that much danger,” General Skywalker huffs, as if amused, but, “You were, though. Is Ahsoka awake?” And although he's concerned, he's also looking very pleased with himself.

Fives _snorts_. Rex hates Fives sometimes.

“No. She needs her rest though. She jumped out a window,” he says, by way of explanation. It's an understatement.

“I see that.” His General nods at the shattered window. “I didn't question Krell yet. I thought, and Fives agreed, that you'd want to be there.”

Rex nods once. He wants to know _why_ Krell turned traitor, why he ordered the 212th to attack the 501st. “All due respect, General,” and the words are a little sour but General Skywalker nods solemnly, obviously _listening_ \- “but I'd rather not wait.”

“I understand, Rex.”

They go down to the brig without any more delay, and Rex can feel his anger again, hot and stifling. General Skywalker has that barely-contained fire in his eyes, a look Rex has come to know means _danger._

Dogma is still in the cell they've put him in - apparently he tried to stop some of his fellow troopers from going after Krell and had to be talked down and taken to the brig.

Krell is seated on the floor of his own cell, eyes closed, and as ever, he mostly ignores Rex until the Captain is right in front of his cell. Rex counts his breaths, waits a moment. He can almost _feel_ General Skywalker's hatred from next to him but for some reason, his General doesn't say anything yet.

“I need to know why,” Rex says, a bite to his voice. Krell opens his eyes, and smiles slowly, unconcerned. “Why did you order us to attack one another?”

“Because, Captain,” and the general gets to his feet, towering over Rex. “I _can_.”

Now General Skywalker swears, strides forward, stands at Rex’s side and _glares_ at Krell. “ _What?_ ” he hisses.

“What a shame, Knight Skywalker, that you could not see how well your Padawan follows your example. She is as foolish and weak as you are, perhaps more so.”

“Answer my question, _properly_.” Rex’s voice grates in his throat, his fury cresting and surging and barely contained as he takes a heavy step closer to the cell wall. “You betrayed the Republic and showed total disregard for clone life. Tell me why.”

“Because you are _beneath_ me, CT-7567. Because you clones are bred for-” Krell's voice cuts off and his hands fly up to his neck. Rex looks sharply at General Skywalker, who stands with his hand uplifted, glaring at Krell with murder in his eyes.

“General Skywalker,” he snaps. While he won't deny that he derives a certain icy satisfaction from seeing Krell clawing for breath, he needs Krell’s confession and explanation. The General hesitates before dropping his hand.

“I suggest you don't insult Captain Rex or Ahsoka again in my presence, Krell,” Anakin hisses, and Krell lets out a strangled chuckle.

“Why?” Rex presses.

“Because the winds of this war are changing, clone. The Republic is doomed to fall; I've foreseen it. A new order will take its place, and I will rule as part of it.”

“You're a Separatist,” Rex growls. One of their own, an enemy the entire time.

Krell laughs at him. “I don't serve a _side_ , clone. Only myself. And soon, my new master.”

Anakin scowls. “What do you mean, sleemo?”

“Temper, temper, Skywalker,” Krell says lightly. “When he sees how I ensured the fall of the Republic on Umbara, he will take me as his apprentice.”

Anakin seems to put two and two together, and spits out, “Dooku.”

“So clever of you to work that out, Skywalker. Would you like a medal? The Umbarans will be marching on this base to take it, and when they do, I will be free.” Krell smiled, drew back and sat down, eyes dropping closed. “You are all dismissed,” he purrs, and Rex clenches his fists.

“You _traitor_!” For a minute Rex doesn't realize Dogma is the one speaking, and he's staring at Krell through the shared wall of their cells. “How could you do this? You had my trust, and you made me kill my brothers!” It's raw and anguished, and Dogma’s eyes are dark.

“Ah, Dogma,” Krell laughs. “You were the biggest fool of all your ‘brothers.’ I needed blind loyalty like yours for my plan to work” and his voice drops to a growling whisper “and I thank you. You ensured the death of your brothers with your obedience.”

It's almost too much because Dogma draws back as if slapped, and Rex can tell he's shaking. “Enough,” he says harshly.

But General Skywalker still looks ready to kill. “Open his cell,” he says, and Rex goes still.

“Sir-”

“ _Open his cell_.”

The trooper on the cell controls looks at Rex, as if asking what to do. Rex shakes his head at him. Whatever General Skywalker is thinking, it's probably not good.

Krell opens his eyes lazily and smiles. “Ah, did I mention, Skywalker - your clones have grown insubordinate. You may have to get new ones.”

Rex’s heart is pounding too fast and he grits his teeth. The General looks at Rex and Rex gestures with a nod; they both step away from the cell a little and Rex tries to be as diplomatic as he can, tries to remember what General Kenobi or Commander Tano would do when Skywalker gets this angry. “Sir, why do you want us to open his cell?”

Skywalker growls out a curse. “I want to make him pay,” he says, and Rex is, as always, very grateful for his honesty.

“Sir, he needs to be dealt with by the Republic.”

“Who says they have to deal with him in one piece?” General Skywalker snarls, his hand on his saber, and Rex finds himself very tired, suddenly. “

“Sir, Ahs- Commander Tano has already cut two of his arms off.”

“And I'll take the other two. Team effort,” Skywalker says, and Rex can't help but smile.

“Sir, all due respect, but I'm not letting you do that.”

General Skywalker scowls, and it's a dark expression but Rex isn't afraid; he knows that anger isn't really directed at him. For a moment he isn't sure if his General will insist, but then Skywalker sighs and closes his eyes for a moment. “You're right, Rex.” He seems to want to say more, but he doesn't, just turns to Krell, lips curling in a sneer. “The Republic will decide what to do with you.”

Krell just laughs, and the sound chases them as they take the lift back up out of the brig.

~~~

“Look, Kix, I'm _fine,”_ Ahsoka tries, staring pleadingly up at the medic. “I won't even go jump out a window! I just want to talk to my Master.”

“No,” Kix says firmly. “You need to _stay in bed_ until this campaign is over, at least.”

“But--”

Kix turns and walks away, muttering about _stupid, reckless, self-sacrificing Jedi,_ leaving Ahsoka to sit and stew in silent frustration.

She'd woken up to find herself alone in the bunk, and she'd had to fight off a burst of loneliness, though it hadn't been entirely unexpected. She _had_ practically forced Rex to stay, after all. “Kix,” she starts, hesitant--the medic turns, still disgruntled, raising an eyebrow. “How long did Rex--stay?”

To her surprise, Kix grins a little. “Until he woke up.” Then he leaves.

Rex walks through the door a couple minutes later, dropping down to sit on the bunk next to her. “General Skywalker is here,” he says, and she nods.

“I know, I can feel him,” she says, and goes to sit up, only to be stopped by his horrified look. “I just want to talk to him, that's all!” Rex glares, silent, and she huffs out a frustrated breath. “Fine. I assume you interrogated Krell?” At his nod, she asks, “What did you learn?”

“Krell is a Separatist,” Rex explains. “He told the general and I that there's an Umbaran attack on the air base coming. I think the general is trying to contact General Kenobi for reinforcements.”

Ahsoka blinks. “Oh,” she says. That's… not good. “How did Anakin take it?”

Rex grimaces. “He wanted to cut off Krell's other arms.”

“Oh,” she says again. There’s not much else she _can_ say. (A large part of her thinks Krell deserves it.) Rex looks… thoughtful, still, like there’s something on his mind--something more than Krell, and Anakin, and the impending Umbaran attack. There's something in his eyes that makes her think he wants to ask her something. “What is it, Rex?”

“What do you think will happen to us after the war is over?”

She considers that question for a long moment, thoughtful. “I don’t know. Maybe the Senate could be convinced to give you all--a planet, or something. Somewhere to live.” Something occurs to her, and she smiles. “Anakin could ask Pad--er, Senator Amidala about it. She cares just as much about you all as we do, I’m sure she’d be happy to look into it.”

Maybe it’s just her imagination, but she thinks Rex looks almost a bit _disappointed,_ which she supposes she understands--it’s not like that’s a very clear answer, after all. But he covers it up with a slight smile. “I’d appreciate that, ‘Soka,” he says, and for the first time she notices the nickname--it sends a pleasant rush of warm happiness through her. (She wonders if he even knows he’s saying it.)

“I like the--” she starts, and then pauses a half-second, trying not to blush as she realizes what she almost said, “um, the nickname. It’s--” and she tries and fails to find a word that doesn’t make her sound completely ridiculous, “um. Nice?” she finishes lamely, and winces a little. “I mean. I like it.”

Rex stares at her, torn between amusement and some other emotion she can’t identify, and then, softly, almost inaudibly, as though he hadn’t meant to say it aloud, he mutters, “You’re cute when you’re embarrassed.”

Wait. What? “What?” she says dumbly, in shock (Rex thinks she’s _cute?)._ “What did you say?” _(Rex_ thinks she’s cute?)

“Nothing,” he says quickly (maybe a bit _too_ quickly). “Er, nothing at all, sir.” He won’t meet her eyes, instead staring down at the floor, where his helmet still sits.

The silence is awkward, to say the least.

Ahsoka remembers the early days of the war, when he’d called her _youngling_ and _kid,_ and very firmly decides he simply meant _cute_ in an older-brother way. That must be all any of this is, she thinks. Nothing else makes sense.

“So where’s Anakin?” she asks, just as he asks, “How’d you sleep?”

They both look at each other and then laugh, and she’s not sure why she feels _nervous,_ why there are butterflies dancing around her stomach in apprehensive eagerness. (Why she keeps shifting closer and closer to him, almost like she craves the simple warm assurance of his touch.) “I slept--fine,” she says, and she’s surprised to realize it’s not a lie. “Actually, I think that’s the first time I haven’t had nightmares in--a long time.” It must’ve been the sheer _exhaustion._ “Kix said you fell asleep?”

He nods, looking down at her, one hand absently settling on top of the hand she’s resting on the pillow. (It takes every ounce of willpower she possesses not to stare at it.) “I wasn’t planning on it, but I guess I was tired enough that as soon as I felt safe enough, my body took over.” He probably felt safe because Krell is finally in the brig, unable to hurt any more troopers. She can’t think of any other reason why.

His thumb brushes back and forth across the back of her hand, the motion rhythmic and soothing, and she feels herself relaxing, although she’s not even sure why. It’s _nice,_ to just lay here, peaceful and calm, after the stress of the last couple of days--

Of course, the peace is shattered after only a moment or two when Anakin comes into the room. “Snips!” he shouts gleefully, and Ahsoka pretends she doesn’t feel _hurt_ when Rex jerks his hand away like he’s been burned. “Snips, what’s this I hear about jumping out a window _without me?”_

“Skyguy!” She tries to say the nickname as loudly as she wants to, but even with the painkillers that sends a stabbing pain through her ribs, and she grimaces. She tries to sit up anyway, but Rex--not even _looking_ at her--pushes her back down. “Krell jumped out the window first,” she says, and tries not to notice the way his face darkens at the name. She _can’t,_ however, ignore the _anger_ she feels through the Force, and she grimaces again. “Master, my shields--”

“I remember, Snips,” Anakin almost growls, and he sits down on the bunk too, cross-legged near her feet. “Close your eyes, sink into a light trance. I’ll help you rebuild them.”

“I should go--” Rex starts, and she’s surprised by how much _panic_ shoots through her at the thought.

“No!” she says, too loudly, and winces. “I mean--stay, please?” Entirely of its own volition, her hand catches his arm, resting in the crook of his elbow. “It won’t take very long.”

Rex nods, after a moment, and she smiles, letting her hand slide down his arm, her fingers tangling with his. And then she closes her eyes and slips into the meditative trance.

~~~

It’s intensely awkward sitting there while General Skywalker closes his eyes and seems to meditate. Ahsoka’s unresponsive too, so Rex just leaves his hand in hers, although he's uncomfortably aware that Skywalker saw her grab his hand.

He's worried about her still. He can tell when her breaths pain her and he wishes she'd _stop_ trying to sit up. She just needs to heal and rest. Hopefully whatever Skywalker’s doing will help.

He appreciates what Ahsoka said about helping him and his brothers after his war - if the war ever ends, the clones will need all the help they can get. But it wasn't the answer he'd been looking for.

Not that that really matters.

He shifts on the bunk and watches Ahsoka’s face, traces the patterns on her cheeks and forehead with his eyes. She looks peaceful, anyway.

It's just another few minutes before Ahsoka's eyes flutter open again and she sighs. Rex reluctantly pulls his hand free of hers and smiles at her. General Skywalker unfolds his crossed legs and stands, crossing his arms comfortably over his chest. “Better, Snips?”

“Yeah.” She does sound better, although Rex catches her wincing. “Are _you_ okay, Master?”

“Well, I just found out most of my battalion is dead and you jumped out a window, so not too bad,” Anakin grumbles. “The Chancellor had me off on a personal mission, something stupid about tailing some crime boss.”

“Sounds fun,” Ahsoka says, and Rex snorts.

Anakin glances over at Rex and he looks deadly serious suddenly as he says, “Is it okay if I steal your Captain here for a minute?”

Rex pushes down the warmth the phrase “your Captain” gives him and stands up off the bunk.

Ahsoka splutters something about it being fine, and Rex smiles a little at her before following General Skywalker out of the med bay.

Skywalker stops outside in the hallway and shakes his head, sighing frustratedly. “I can't get to Obi Wan. I think Krell sabotaged the communications array because nothing’s coming in or going out, and the scouts are confirming an army of Umbarans marching this way. If they take this airbase and release Krell…”

“He'll tell them everything,” Rex says. Krell knows codes, battle plans, any number of Republic and Jedi secrets that the Separatists _cannot_ know.

Skywalker nods, and Rex realizes what they have to do. They're going to have to fend off an attack and they're weak - he doesn't know if they can. They can't be worrying about Krell getting away during the battle.

“I think we need to execute him,” General Skywalker says heavily, and Rex nods once. It's their best option. “Can I leave that to you, Rex?”

Rex clenches his jaw and fists. “Yes, sir.”

“I need to get this base ready. As much as possible, anyway.”

“Yes sir. I'll deal with Krell.”

~~~

Anakin ducks into the med bay to inform Ahsoka that Krell is being executed and he needs her to be a Jedi witness. Which, of course, means going down to the brig.

Kix is not impressed. “Absolutely not. Commander Tano needs to _rest,_ and Krell is _not_ conducive to that.”

Ahsoka frowns, pushing herself up to a sitting position despite Kix’s furious glare. “I have to do this,” she says, and deliberately doesn't look at Rex, standing in the door. “Master needs my help, Kix! He needs to plan or how many more bunks will you have to fill? Trust me to know my limits. I'm a _Jedi.”_

Kix presses his lips together. “That's why I _don't_ trust you.”

“That's not _fair,”_ Ahsoka complains. “Jump out a window _once_ after a psycho Jedi who's killing your men and suddenly you can't be trusted to take care of yourself.”

“I'm sorry, Kix, but I have to pull rank on you this time,” Anakin says apologetically. “I need Ahsoka down there.”

Everyone just… _stops._

Ahsoka glances around at the troopers, noticing how every single one of them has frozen (Rex included, she sees, and _that_ scares her a little), eyes darting from Kix to Anakin to Rex and back again. A surge of anger flares up--her men should _never_ look like this--and she snaps, “He’s not Krell.”

Half the troopers flinch at her voice; Kix just swallows, says, “I’m going with her then, sir, because if she’s going to leave the medbay I’m going to be there to make sure she makes it _back.”_

“Of course, Kix.” Anakin looks around, guilt and anger plain on his face. “I should’ve been here,” he says, softly, but the words still reach every corner of the medbay. “I’m sorry. I’ll never let this happen again.” The _no matter what_ goes unsaid.

And then he turns and walks out.

Rex comes inside, grabs his helmet from the floor beside Ahsoka’s bunk. “I’m not happy about this either, ‘Soka,” he tells her quietly.

She doesn’t answer him, just carefully stands, the floor cool against her bare feet. There’s a moment of dizziness--she sways _(Shavit, Soka,_ Rex hisses, and she feels his hands on her shoulders, steadying her), regains her balance, blinks away the spots. “Where are my boots?”

Kix indicates the floor beneath her bunk. “You’ll be fine,” he says, though, “we’re just going to the brig.”

She makes a face, gestures to the medbay door. “Lead the way,” and when he hesitates, looking back at her, she adds, “I can _walk!”_

(Mostly.)

Breathing still _hurts,_ but she’s not about to tell anyone, and she’s pretty sure she’s doing a good job of concealing that and the lingering dizziness as she walks out of the medbay, but Rex stays right beside her, his hand resting on the inside of her elbow, keeping her balanced. “You can’t fool me,” he murmurs in an undertone, for her ears alone.

(Something in her thinks maybe she doesn’t want to.)

~~~

Rex can pretend he doesn’t think about killing Krell until they get down to the cell. He can pretend he’s focused on Ahsoka and his men and getting Fives and Jesse. He can almost pretend he has no interest in this, that he’s just been given orders and must carry them out.

It’s not until they get to Krell’s level and Rex sees him that he has to admit to the vengeful, elated anger that burns icy in his bones, the sick kind of anxiety that he feels when he curls his hand around his blaster. Fives goes to get Dogma out of his cell; Rex thinks Dogma deserves to see this too because Krell has manipulated him more than most of them.

Krell stands and meets his gaze, still looking so confident, and Rex draws his blaster. “Step toward the wall,” he says, voice heavy. Krell gives him a look of utter contempt but turns, faces the back wall of his cell. Even now Rex doesn’t feel totally sure Krell is contained - there’s something inherently threatening about the besalisk that says he _cannot_ be bound - maybe cannot be killed.

But Rex intends to find out.

“On your knees,” he orders, and it’s a quick and dirty execution but this is war and Krell deserves to die in disgrace, not on his feet like a soldier. Jesse opens Krell’s cell door, and Rex automatically braces for an attack of some kind.

Krell doesn’t move to escape or to kneel, just laughs, and Rex tightens his hands on his blaster, fear and anger mixing in his chest. “You’re in a position of power now, _Captain_ ,” he mocks. “How does it feel?” Rex refuses to answer that question, out loud or to himself. This is not power, it’s necessary. He lowers his blaster, aims it straight between Krell’s shoulders.

“I said,” he growls, “On your _knees_.”

Krell hums, like he’s figured something out. “It feels good, doesn’t it,” he says, and Rex finds himself thinking, _no_. He feels sick and furious and he’s not sure why. But Krell is going down, getting to his knees, and that does feel good in a way. Rex pushes that down. “But I can sense your fear,” and Krell turns his head, pins him with one amused yellow eye. “You’re shaking, aren’t you?”

And Rex realizes he is.

But they need to do this, need to kill Krell so he can’t betray the Republic or hurt anyone else Rex loves. He focuses on the weight of the blaster, on his aim. It doesn’t feel right.

“What are you waiting for? The Umbarans are getting closer.” Krell sounds like he knows something Rex doesn’t, like he knows _exactly_ why Rex is hesitating.

He looks back at Fives and Jesse (sees them standing in front of a wall in their blacks, Dogma pacing in front of his firing squad). “I have to do this,” he says, more to himself than anyone else. He _has_ to, there aren’t other options. Hell, part of him _wants_ to.

Krell’s voice is icy, a purr, “You can’t do it,” he says. “Can you?”

“Rex,” and he looks back at Ahsoka (and sees her in front of his men, protecting them from their execution). She looks so tired, and that’s Krell’s fault. “Don’t pay any attention to him. You have to do this.”

But Krell is right, Rex _can’t_. He is a clone and a soldier, but not… not an executioner. Krell deserves it, deserves to die, and Rex wants more than anything to keep his men safe, but he isn’t this kind of leader - wherever that leaves him, he can’t take this much power. It feels too good, almost, and he doesn’t want that kind of strength. The weight of the lives he protects is a responsibility and he doesn’t want to forget it, because that’s what makes generals like Krell.

“Ah, Padawan Tano.” Now Krell is chuckling, looking well assured of himself, and Rex doesn’t know what to do, only that he _can’t_ kill him like this, and he looks at Ahsoka for some kind of help because he’s not sure what to do. “Perhaps if you had been strong enough to best me, we wouldn’t be-”

The general chokes off and, almost slowly, falls on his face on the cell floor, only a neat blaster wound in his back showing what happened. Rex knows it wasn’t him, but when he looks at Dogma, the trooper (with his hands still cuffed together) drops a blaster on the floor, shaking his head, looking distraught. “I had to,” he says. “He betrayed us, he…” He stops, looks exhausted.

Fives glances down at his holster and then slowly bends and picks up the blaster Dogma had dropped - it was apparently his. Rex holsters his own weapon, his heartbeat suddenly loud and relief combined with adrenaline leaving him trembling. He looks back at Krell. The general doesn’t move - he’s really dead.

The thought should give Rex some sense of satisfaction, but instead he’s only weary.

It’s over, then. And he doesn’t know where this leaves him.

~~~

After Umbara, even the artificial lighting on the _Resolute_ seems like a miracle, a luxury Ahsoka knows she’ll never take for granted again. Even if she’s been mostly on bed rest, barely allowed to even wander around the ship’s corridors, at least she’s _off_ that planet--and so are her men, too.

She’s only seen Rex a couple times since the planet was secured, and neither of those times have been when they could really _talk;_ he’s always busy, it seems, and with her out for a few weeks Anakin is in desperate need of Rex’s expertise. They go on missions (well, everyone else does; she’s forced to be in bed much of the time, because of that stupid concussion, or taking things easy so her ribs will heal), and maybe it’s because she’s the only one who isn’t working herself to exhaustion that she’s the one who sees the shadows of Krell and Umbara everywhere she looks.

Those shadows are there in the way the troopers jump and flinch every time they hear the word _dismissed_ (Anakin notices and stops using it entirely); in the way Rex’s hands shake on his blasters; in the way Kix is protective to extremes of the men.

The way they’re _all_ constantly scanning the shadows, talking in hushed voices.

Ahsoka falls asleep in the mess one night, when the confines of her quarters get to be too much after a series of nightmares. She’s awakened by someone’s hand on her shoulder; she flinches, leaps to full combat position, even drawing her lightsabers before she realizes _where_ she is. Every trooper in the mess has gone _still_ at the sound of her ‘sabers, and there are more than a few blasters pointed her way--until she takes a shaky breath, puts her ‘sabers away, grabs her datapad and flees, unable to look her men in the eye.

(She locks herself in her room and throws herself onto her bed and _sobs_ until there are no more tears, because she _failed_ them.)

Everyone is either afraid of her, avoiding her, or angry with her--or some combination of the three--other than Anakin, and he’s just plain _busy,_ the Council sending him on missions one after another. Even _Kix_ is mad: he rarely speaks to her when she comes to him for check ups. One day-cycle, she slips into the medbay to ask for more pain meds.

Kix doesn’t even look up, just snarls out, “Oh, you want more pain meds? That wouldn’t be because you _jumped out of a window with four broken ribs,_ would it?” (His hands are shaking around a container of bacta and if she’d lower her shields she’d feel it’s fear, not anger, that makes him snap.)

She flinches back, slinks out of the medbay, resolves to get better without the pain meds. She doesn’t _need_ them. Maybe, if she’d just been better at ignoring pain, at fighting through injuries, she would’ve been able to stop Krell. Maybe she could’ve saved her men.

Ahsoka starts avoiding Kix, after that incident, partly because she’s ashamed and so, so _guilty_ and partially because she _still_ can’t sleep without waking screaming from nightmares and she can’t, won’t worry him, won’t burden him, can’t face him. Instead she spends more and more time in one of the shipboard salles, her ‘sabers out, practicing her forms, gritting her teeth and pushing through even when her ribs scream in pain and she can’t breathe through the agony.

She _has_ to be better.

(Rex finds her there, late one night-cycle, sobbing in the corner because everything _hurts_ and she can’t stop _dreaming_ and she _failed them_ and she can’t get _better_ and--and it’s all too much, and it’s dark and quiet other than the sounds of her sobs and the humming of the ship’s engines, and it would be peaceful if she wasn’t so _lost._ He’s in just his blacks--she can tell because he slides down the cool durasteel wall to sit next to her and then pulls her into his arms so she can cry into his chest. She cries herself to sleep and wakes up the next morning in her bed, after having slept nearly eight hours without nightmares.)

She _misses_ the men.

She misses the easy camaraderie, the laughter and jokes, the teamwork.. She misses going out on missions feeling like nothing could break her--but now she’s broken, and she can’t forget it. Can’t forget how she failed them. How she couldn’t protect them like she’d sworn to do.

But most of all, she misses Rex, with a sharp pain that knifes into her heart, her very _soul,_ more agonizing than her ribs could ever be, leaving her feeling hollowed out and empty, like there’s a part of her missing, a hole in her life. She tries not to feel it--Jedi don’t have attachments, Jedi don’t have emotions, Jedi aren’t affected like this by a simple campaign--but she can’t forget it.

She thinks he must be _furious_ at her, for failing so badly, especially after he’d commed her specifically because he _knew_ he needed help and he _trusted_ her to protect the men and she _didn’t_ and she thinks she knows why he hardly speaks to her, because she betrayed him just as much as Krell did, and she couldn’t even kill Krell at the end, in the brig. She couldn’t stop him. She couldn’t even keep Krell out of her mind, she had to run screaming to her Master for help--no _wonder_ the troopers are unsure of her, she can’t even protect herself.

She knows, now, why Anakin didn’t really want to take her as a padawan.

Ahsoka curls up in the smallest places she can find, where she’s surrounded by walls and no one can touch her, and screams _I’m sorry!_ until her throat is raw and she’s sobbing so hard she thinks she might re-shatter her ribs, and there is no one there to forgive her.

(She misses them all, she wants them _back,_ but she misses Rex the most.)

~~~

Rex receives a mild reprimand for his actions - it’s more for show than anything else. He has, after all, saved the Republic from a devastating loss of intel and killed a potential Sith Lord. General Skywalker tells him he thinks the Republic is afraid of Rex and the 501st now.

They send him back out on missions with Skywalker immediately because he wasn’t injured, and it’s hard to hide how unprepared he is. Any time Anakin ignites his saber Rex has to fight the urge to duck, to run. When he looks at fields of destroyed droids, he can’t help but see his men after Krell was finished with them.

On the rare occasion he’s back on the Resolute, he’s hesitant to go see Ahsoka. He’d taken so long to stand up to Krell - too long, and his men died and Ahsoka was injured because of it. He shouldn’t even have called her planetside, really - it was selfish and dangerous. She’s recovering, at least, Kix tells him.

“You should talk to her yourself,” Kix says, and Rex mumbles something about another mission.

Because he does have one mission after another, and besides dealing with them himself he has to comfort one of his sergeants after a particularly fierce battle where General Skywalker takes down an entire platoon of Seppies on his own. Rex doesn’t tell Skywalker his men are afraid of the sound of sabers now - what can his General do about it?

He misses Ahsoka. But if he'd just been what his men needed, if he'd let her do what she needed to do, she would be fine and he wouldn't feel like he's lost something with her. When he gets back one night he’s pacing the halls because he finds it hard to sleep now, and he passes the training rooms the Jedi use. It’s late, he shouldn’t hear anything, but he hears Ahsoka crying.

(He goes into the room, sees her huddled on the floor with her saber, and he goes to sit by her and tugs her against his chest. She sounds like she’s breaking and he knows it’s _his fault._ He whispers to her, talks nonsense, apologizes. She doesn't even seem to hear. He holds her until she falls asleep, still taking heaving breaths, and he takes her back to her bunk and lays her down. He doesn’t sleep at all himself, that night.)

He fights for his men, comforts them, welcomes the new members of the 501st and teaches them what he can. And he wishes it was easier to go back to his old friendship with General Skywalker, wishes he didn’t feel like every suggestion he makes is a risk. He wishes he could just go back to following orders without question, wishes he didn't feel so responsible for everything that happens to his men now. The war has begun to feel pointless, like it will never end. He begins to wonder what will happen to him when there are no more wars to fight.

(He wants Ahsoka back. She’s the one he misses the most.)

_Fin_


End file.
